


you & i

by neoragodestiny



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 25 lives AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neoragodestiny/pseuds/neoragodestiny
Summary: twenty five lives au. the twenty five lifetimes of Seungcheol and Jihoon.





	1. lives one to five

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: this is a crosspost of you & i [[LJ](http://scripted-dream.livejournal.com/tag/series%3A%20jicheol%2025%20lives%20au) (comm-locked)] [[AFF](http://twitter.com) (subscribers-only)]  
> this is based on [25 lives by tongari](http://s2b2.livejournal.com/142934.html)
> 
> warnings (for all chapters): graphic descriptions of violence, character death, alcohol

_one_

“C’mon, Jihoon!” Seungcheol yells and he sees his best friend huff as he darts through the finishing school crowd to Seungcheol’s bicycle, waiting at the front entrance of the school.

“I told you! I’m class president, I can’t get out early like you,” Jihoon scowls as he sits himself on the back seat, arms going around Seungcheol’s waist. The older barely waits for him to settle down before he’s peddling away.

“You’re such a perfect kid, Jihoon,” Seungcheol mutters, rolling his eyes as they set off.

“Says you, school council president, who has everyone in the school practically willing to die for you,” Jihoon retorts as they cycle by the river.

Seungcheol and Jihoon are the only two students at their high school who live on the outer east side of the village, so it was only natural that they became close, and go to and from school together every day.

“Now that’s exaggerating,” Seungcheol says, nudging Jihoon slightly with his elbow. Jihoon makes a noise of protest and pokes his stomach, making Seungcheol swerve a little.

“Hey!” Seungcheol cries, braking to a stop. Jihoon grins at him cheekily and hops off, running down the grassy banks of the riverside.

It‘s their favourite place to hang around whenever they had time after school; the riverbank is always quiet, away from the road and the people, and barely anyone walks the path that they use to travel home.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, but drops his bike with a smile and sprints after Jihoon. The younger boy sees him and shrieks, darting out of his reach.

After chasing each other in circles, they both end up on their backs, staring at the sky as breathless laughter passes their lips.

Seungcheol watches the clouds drift by, like they can carry his worries away. For now, he doesn’t have to think about school work, or his mum’s health, or the student council schedule, or the fact he’s leaving at the end of the year -

Seungcheol turns to look at Jihoon and sees the younger boy looking wistful. They're thinking about the same things again.

“When you ride to school, make sure to be careful near the train crossing, okay?” Seungcheol says and Jihoon turns to look at him in surprise. His expression changes to scoff at him.

“Yes, _mum_ ,” he says, rolling his eyes. But despite the sarcasm and the nonchalance, Seungcheol knows Jihoon is scared. Because Seungcheol graduates at the end of the year, and who's going to look out for Jihoon after that?

Jihoon’s staring at the sky, but Seungcheol knows he's thinking too much again, so he reaches to take Jihoon’s hand in his. The younger turns to look at him and Seungcheol offers him the best smile he can manage.

“It’s going to be okay,” Seungcheol says, “I’ll see you in Seoul,”

Jihoon just nods, but his expression is still solemn. Seungcheol squeezes his hand. “It’s a promise, Jihoon, and we don’t break promises,”

 

Seungcheol watches as a young boy waddles through the huge Seoul Station, all the while hauling an oversized, overweight suitcase behind him. Seungcheol wants to laugh, because he knows exactly what is inside.

Seungcheol makes his way over to the boy who will soon look lost, but before he can, someone bumps into him. Seungcheol hurries forward as the boy stumbles and almost gets squashed by his own suitcase. He’s lucky he manages to grab both boy and bag before they're all crushed.

“Thank you, I - ” the boy breathes out, turning to face him and Seungcheol watches in amusement as his eyes go wide and his mouth begins to resemble a gaping fish.

“You took all your recording equipment with you, didn’t you, Lee Jihoon?” he says.

“There wasn’t enough bubble wrap to protect it properly!” Jihoon protests and Seungcheol laughs, whole body shaking. He ruffles Jihoon’s hair and the boy laughs and lightly punches his arm. Seungcheol misses that familiar dull pain.

“Welcome to Seoul, Jihoon,” Seungcheol says, smiling warmly. Jihoon returns it, smile as bright as the sun.

 

_two_

“Your Highness, it’s time to wake up,”

Seungcheol rolls over and mumbles something under his breath. Whatever he says, it’s definitely not in agreement to getting up.

A cool hand against the warm skin of his cheek and Seungcheol opens one eye blearily to see a young boy, trying to hide a bemused smile. He glances around the room but there isn’t anyone else in the room - just him, and the boy.

“I don’t want to,” Seungcheol whines, rolling over again.

“Your Highness, you really must - ” Seungcheol reaches out, hand wrapping around a thin wrist before he tugs the boy onto the bed with him, to lie beside him, Seungcheol’s arm around him.

“I told you,” he murmurs, eyes only half open, pretending not to notice the adorable dusting of pink on the boy’s nose, “when it’s just the two of us, you can just call me by my name,”

“B-but - ” the boy begins. Seungcheol hushes him with a breathy exhale, closing his eyes again.

“No buts, Jihoonie,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Seungcheol opens one eye and waits. “Okay, S-Seungcheol,”

Seungcheol grins and presses a quick kiss to the other’s lips. “Good. Now I don’t need to be up until sunrise, which is not now, so… later,”

“Seungcheol, you have - ”

“Tell me what I have to do today later, Jihoon. Sleep first,” Seungcheol murmurs, burying his nose into growing black hair. “You need a haircut though,”

“Mmm, it’s fine,” Jihoon answers, breath tickling Seungcheol’s neck and he tries not to shiver.

“Are you going to grow your hair long like Jeonghan-hyung?” Seungcheol asks, opening his eyes to stare at the boy in his arms. Jihoon just laughs quietly, almost soundless, and Seungcheol feels his heart twist in his chest. From happiness, to see Jihoon laugh, so easy and beautiful, but also in sadness, because Jihoon has learned from the beginning to be quiet and to do everything to be almost invisible. Palace servants are meant to be neither seen nor heard, only answering when talked to and they always looked like they felt guilty of taking up space just to exist.

“No, not like the Crown Prince. Just don’t have the time,” Jihoon answers, “especially when you do things like this,” he teases, prodding Seungcheol’s chest. His cheeky grin is so carefree and Seungcheol feels his chest swell. He moves to cup Jihoon’s face in both his hands. The smaller boy looking at him, puzzled. Seungcheol just smiles and thinks that Jihoon is everything he wants. He doesn’t want a kingdom, or any of the riches he’s to inherit. Just Jihoon.

Jihoon says his name softly and Seungcheol answers by pressing their lips together, trying not to curl his fingers when Jihoon kisses him back, hands gripping his shirt tightly and driving Seungcheol mad.

“I love you,” Seungcheol breathes when they break apart and Jihoon whispers it back with such a shy smile, Seungcheol just _has_ to kiss him again.

They lie there for a while, just content listening to each other breathing, hearts beating together. Then Jihoon falls asleep against Seungcheol’s chest and the prince just smiles and runs his hands through the younger’s hair before falling asleep himself, smile never leaving his face.

(“Does he really think we don’t know, when they do things like this?” Jeonghan tsks as he stands just inside the door. Beside him, Jisoo shuffles his feet, but keeps his gaze lowered. On the other side of the room, in the large four poster bed, two boys lie together, entangled in each other and the sheets, asleep.

Jeonghan notices his discomfort. “You should know by now, I’m not going to tell on them,” he says, as his hand touches Jisoo’s chin to get him to lift his face, smiling when Jisoo finally meets his gaze. “Seungcheol would be absolutely distraught if anything happened to Jihoon,”

Jisoo just nods and his gaze flickers to the smaller boy asleep in the bed. Jeonghan smiles and steps closer and Jisoo goes rigid. “Just like how I would be if anything happened to you,” he breathes and Jisoo casts a glance at the door, which is ajar just slightly, but no one is in the corridor when Jeonghan’s lips meet his.)

 

_three_

Seungcheol may have swiped his gym membership card _and_ the business card of the local pizza place before he manages to swipe the correct card and get into the dorm, but hey, it’s 4AM and he reeks of alcohol and secondhand smoke - no one is going to be watching his embarrassing stumbling. He almost walks into the wrong dorm room, but he hears the snoring before he looks at the room number and quickly walks the few more steps to the right dorm. 717. The numbers blur once and Seungcheol takes a second to make sure, yes, this his room, before he opens the door and almost trips over his own foot.

He expects to just hear the ringing that hasn’t left his ears, or at most a groggy “What the hell?” from his roommate. What he doesn’t expect is a desk lamp on and a hunched figure in front of the glowing screen of a computer.

Seungcheol squints as his blond roommate, Jihoon, turns to stare at him. In the three months since they’ve been roommates, Seungcheol only really spends the last few hours before sleeping with Jihoon, usually just polite small talk. They’re not close, but they’re amicable. They give each other space and it’s been fine so far. Jihoon never says anything about Seungcheol’s late nights (or early mornings), except for the occasional groan when Seungcheol wakes him up with his drunken stumbling at 3AM. This is the first time Seungcheol has come back to find Jihoon still awake.

“You okay?” Jihoon asks quietly as he pulls his headphones down. They look expensive, but Seungcheol feels like his head is a pot of melted marshmallow and he can’t think straight.

Seungcheol hums something as he staggers to his bed, pulling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes at the same time. They land somewhere under his bed. He might be drunk, but he’s not going to be a annoying drunk and kick them onto Jihoon’s side of the room.

“What are you doing still up?” Seungcheol asks as he rolls about trying to yank his socks off.

“Uhm, composing,” Jihoon answers.

Seungcheol stops in his sock-struggle for a moment to stare at him, “Composing? Really? Hey, that’s cool,” he says. “Do you post it online or something?”

Jihoon chuckles. “No, just for myself and some friends,”

“Can I listen?” Seungcheol asks, having wrestled his sock off and now debating whether he wants to bother getting out of his jeans or to just sleep in it. Whatever, he’ll deal with it tomorrow.

“Now?” 

Seungcheol waves it off. “No, when I’m sober,” he says, “I can’t decipher left from right at the moment,”

Jihoon laughs as Seungcheol climbs into bed. “Okay then,” he says.

Seungcheol mumbles something akin to “Goodnight,” before he’s out.

 

Seungcheol wakes up to his head pounding and nausea crawling up and down his throat.He groans and hears a quiet chuckle nearby. A bleary glance to his side shows Jihoon sitting at his desk, but turned around to watch him.

“Morning,” Jihoon says and Seungcheol groans again, burying his face into his pillow. There’s a tap on his arm and Seungcheol turns again to see two small pills and a glass of water in front of him. Jihoon just smiles. “Aspirin,” he says, and Seungcheol nods his thanks and swallows them quietly, before flopping back on his bed, laying an arm across his eyes, because the room is too bright.

After a little while, he sits up slowly, runs a hand through his hair and goes to wash up. His head is still pounding when he finishes, but at least the nausea has passed by now.

He’s towelling his hair dry when Jihoon asks, “Are you sober now?”

“Still kind of hungover, so no,” Seungcheol answers, and Jihoon laughs breezily.

“Did you still want to listen then?” he asks. Seungcheol just pauses and stares at him for a solid minute, Jihoon looking increasingly flustered when it seems like Seungcheol can’t remember.

“N-Nevermind,” he says, turning around, but Seungcheol says, “Yeah, I do,” and tries to give him a reassuring smile.

Seungcheol’s head is a mess, but even hungover, Seungcheol knows good music when he hears it, and Jihoon’s music is _really good._

“That’s awesome,” Seungcheol breathes, eyes wide when the song finishes. “Do you have more?”

Jihoon looks a little shy, but he shows him more songs, beaming and looking pleased every time Seungcheol comments on the little parts of the song, like the good transitions, or unique rhythms.They spend the whole day listening to Jihoon’s music and discussing certain aspects of it. And three days later, when Seungcheol returns from class to see Jihoon glued to the computer, he sits down beside him silently and watches, fascinated, as Jihoon navigates a complicated music program. He watches as the music comes together bit by bit, and Seungcheol thinks it’s like watching magic.

The next weekend, Seungcheol doesn’t go out, spending the night with Jihoon, huddled over his laptop and listening to the other boy as he tries to explain his music creation process.

It takes another week before Seungcheol asks if he can try writing lyrics for Jihoon’s songs, especially the rap parts. Jihoon seems surprised, but says yes and analyses his work carefully before quietly adding it in.

Jihoon takes him to the recording studio on campus, insisting that he should rap his own lyrics. That night, they don’t sleep until dawn, but they sleep with a completed song on Jihoon’s laptop and matching grins on their faces.

“You should seriously consider posting online,” Seungcheol says to Jihoon one evening, when they’re huddled in front of Jihoon’s computer again. Jihoon just shrugs.

“I don’t see why,” he says, “I do it because I enjoy it. If I make it my livelihood, the stress will take away the enjoyment of it,”

“So don’t make it your livelihood,” Seungcheol says, “but _share_ it. People will enjoy it,”

Jihoon looks thoughtful. “I don’t know who I would share it with though,”

Seungcheol just grins at him. “I do. A friend of mine who likes to dance and DJs as a hobby. Can I show him some of your songs?”

Jihoon is distracted by the complicated rhythm for the bridge, but he stops to think about it, before turning to Seungcheol.

“Okay, but under another name,” he says, “if they don’t like it, I don’t want it coming back to bite me,”

Seungcheol laughs, “Sure. What name?”

Jihoon shrugs. “Woozi. It’s an old nickname,” he says. Seungcheol just grins and ruffles his hair that isn’t squashed by his headphones. Jihoon swats at him and Seungcheol laughs.

The rest of the semester passes by like that, composing and writing and recording in between all their classes, and even though Jihoon nearly throws his textbook out the window before a big midterm, Seungcheol just plays the first song they made together, and Jihoon throws him an exasperated look before slumping against his desk again.

The day they finish their last exam, Seungcheol barges into the room with the biggest grin on his face. Jihoon, who had finished a few hours earlier, looks up at him from where he had been trying to catch some sleep.

“We’re going out,” Seungcheol says and drags Jihoon to sit up and pesters him until he’s dressed for a night out. Jihoon grumbles the whole time they’re getting ready, and the whole walk to the club, situated just outside campus, where half the university is out and about, celebrating.

The club is hot and smoky and Jihoon gags, but Seungcheol just keeps his strong grip on Jihoon’s wrist and tugs him to the bar and orders them drinks. Jihoon tries to refuse but it doesn’t last long when Seungcheol gives him his best impression of puppy eyes.

It’s probably sometime after midnight when Seungcheol grabs Jihoon’s hand again and pulls him onto the dance floor. They’re pleasantly buzzed by then, and Jihoon feels self conscious until Seungcheol dances so ridiculously, some girls give him the stank eye like he’s crazy.

Jihoon just laughs and tries to think of some of the moves he had learned from dance class, years ago. His blond hair is wet with sweat and is falling into his eyes, but Seungcheol is grinning at him amongst the smoky, flashing lights and Jihoon lets himself go.

Seungcheol watches Jihoon dance, the same way those around them are watching him, but then he hears the familiar opening beats and he quickly grabs Jihoon’s hands, making him stop and stare at him in confusion. Seungcheol just grins and waits another moment, until Jihoon’s eyes go wide.

“Now for some tracks by Woozi featuring S.Coups,” the DJ, a blond kid with a coloured headband, says to the crowd, words blending seamlessly into the track. The crowd roars, everyone dancing along and Jihoon looks perplexed. He looks at Seungcheol, still gaping.

“DJ Hoshi,” Seungcheol yells into Jihoon’s ear, “my friend I told you about,”

Jihoon just stands there, in the middle of the crowded club dancefloor, and watches a packed club enjoy his music. Seungcheol watches his face change from surprised and confused, to amazed and delighted.

Jihoon smiles so brightly, eyes shining and nearly disappearing, in those smoky, dancing lights, it’s so, so easy for Seungcheol to mirror it as the song, _their_ song, pumps through the speakers around them.

 

_four_

“Target sighted,” Jihoon’s voice crackles through his earpiece.

Seungcheol absently flicks a page of his newspaper, eyes flicking up to watch the guy in the trench coat who shuffles into a building, glancing behind himself every few steps.

“He’s as obvious as a neon flashing sign,” Seungcheol mutters as he rolls up his newspaper and follows. “I’m going in,”

“Remember to wait until he’s inside the room on the third floor, otherwise I can’t help you,”

“Roger that, Mr. Ninety-Five,” Seungcheol replies, grinning as he hears Jihoon scoff over the communicator.

“It’s Woozi, Coups,” Jihoon says.

“I know, but your record is ninety-five, so I can call you that too,” Seungcheol answers and he hears Jihoon sigh.

Seungcheol watches the elevator rise up to the third floor before taking the stairs, pulling out his pistol from the waistband of his pants. He hears a door open and close and then soft voices murmuring.

“I’ve got a view,”

“Of me or him?” Seungcheol asks.

“Of him, idiot,” Jihoon answers, and Seungcheol knows he’s rolling his eyes.

“Bet I’m the preferred option,” Seungcheol grins.

“In a sniper scope? No,” Jihoon answers and Seungcheol pouts. “Otherwise, yes,”

Seungcheol feels his face split from the grin that spreads across. He silently clenches his fist in victory.

“You’re the best, babe,” Seungcheol says before taking a few more stairs.

“Ew, don’t call me that,” Jihoon replies.

“Okay, pumpkin,” Seungcheol says sweetly and before Jihoon can gag, he says, “I’m going in. Got my back?”

“Always,” Jihoon replies simply and then Seungcheol creeps up to the door, pushes the door open and shoots two guards before anyone even turns to look at him.

He ducks as another guard appears out of nowhere, and the two targets scramble to get away. The outer window shatters as Jihoon puts bullets through the heads of two guards, making the two targets cower. Seungcheol kills the other guard that enters the room.

The room becomes eerily silent after all the gunfire, as the targets continue to hide and the room is filled with the injured or dead guards.

“They’re hiding between the window and the table,” Jihoon says coolly. “I can’t see them though, so you need to coax them out,”

“Surrender and your lives will be spared,” Seungcheol declares and slowly two heads pop up over the desk.

“Cowards,” Jihoon mutters. “I’ve got them,”

Seungcheol is about to explain that they have a bounty for information, and they have no intention to kill either of them; but one of the guys moves, gun appearing out of nowhere, and Seungcheol raises his pistol to retaliate. Jihoon is faster, putting a bullet into his shoulder and he drops his gun with a pained cry. They both miss the other guy though, raising a pistol to shoot Seungcheol, who realises too late but moves just enough for the bullet to hit him in the arm, instead of his chest. Seungcheol flinches and drops his gun and Jihoon curses, firing and hitting the second guy in the back.

Seungcheol curses at the blood on the floor. The second guy is face down on the floor and Seungcheol doesn’t want to check if he’s breathing. They were meant to get them both alive.

“Call the clean up crew,” he sighs.

Jihoon curses again, calling Soonyoung as he packs up his sniper rifle back into its case. The guitar case has been modified on the inside so that Jihoon can pack his sniper rifle in it, allowing him to move to and from his sniper position easily. He just looks like a university music student.

He sprints the two blocks to the building, meeting Seungcheol just inside. He’s holding his arm with his other hand, face looking a little pale as he leans against the wall, breathing heavily.

Jihoon sees the blood that is still dripping down his arm and swears so much that Seungcheol leans over to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t say such foul words with such a pretty mouth,” he says, smile shaky as he winces.

“You’re bleeding like a butchered animal and you’re still flirty?” Jihoon scowls as he takes off his scarf. He ties it around Seungcheol’s arm to stop the bleeding and put it into a makeshift sling.

“I can’t help it,” Seungcheol grins. Jihoon scowls again, but his cheeks are pink even in the dark entrance. Seungcheol chuckles and kisses his cheek.

“Still as adorable as high school sweethearts, I see,” Soonyoung comments as he appears in the doorway. He spots Seungcheol’s arm and raises an eyebrow. “What’s the damage, Coups?”

“One target injured, one dead, seven guards, all dead or breathing their last,” Seungcheol answers.

Soonyoung clicks his tongue. “How’d you kill a target? You two have an impeccable record,”

“Thought they surrendered,” Seungcheol answers, “then they both pulled a fast one on me.”

Soonyoung looks at Jihoon, who looks away, chewing his lip. Jihoon’s role is to provide that kind of backup.

“Good luck with the report,” Soonyoung says grimly. They all know Boss isn’t going to take the news well.

“We both let our guard down,” Seungcheol sighs, before shrugging, not fussed. Soonyoung just nods, feet light as he takes the stairs two at a time.

Seungcheol turns back to Jihoon to see his downcast face and nudges him with his foot. Jihoon meets his eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, “We’re in this together.”Jihoon looks at the ground again.

“I’m meant to have your back,” he says quietly. Seungcheol smiles and reaches for his face, but falters when he realises his good hand is covered in blood from trying to stop the bleeding of his other arm. Jihoon looks at his bloody hand guiltily.

“You do have my back,” Seungcheol says instead, withdrawing his hand. “I’d be dead, several times over, if it weren’t for you,”

Jihoon takes his bloodied hand in both his, cradling it like he’s holding a tiny child.

“I won’t mess up again,” he says. Seungcheol just kisses his forehead and breathes a promise of ‘together’.

 

“Seungcheol,”

“Mm?”

“Why me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why are you with me? Not only as a partner,”

Seungcheol falters in his step for a moment, before continuing. “You’re asking this now? Really? We cuddled all night and you ask me now, when we’re holding guns and preparing to kill someone,”

“You know I’m bad at confrontation,”

Seungcheol sighs, glancing behind the giant crate before taking cover again. He takes a deep breath. “Because you’re you. You’re the best at what you do, you’re sarcastic and witty and intelligent. You’re incredibly kind and funny, and you drive me crazy. I can’t help but smile when I’m with you, and want to be with you when I’m away from you,”

 _As I do in every lifetime before this that I can remember_ , he wants to add, but he knows Jihoon doesn’t remember like he does.

He smiles anyway. “I’m a hired assassin because I love excitement and thrills, but none of it compares to the thrill of being with you,”

There’s silence for a long while and Seungcheol wonders if Jihoon had disconnected and he had just spilled his heart out to emptiness, but then there’s a breathless, “God, you’re so cheesy,”

Seungcheol breaks into a bright grin. “Love you, Jihoon,”

A moment’s pause and then, “I love you too, Seungcheol,”

“Got my back?” he asks.

“Always,” is Jihoon’s answer and Seungcheol smiles and steps out from behind the crate.

A few minutes later and Seungcheol nears the destination, but he frowns when he doesn’t hear the deal going on ahead like he’s meant to. He reaches his vantage point, but the area is empty.

“Woozi, there isn’t anyone here,” he whispers.

“Maybe they moved the location,” Jihoon answers. “Stay hidden. I’ll try to have a look,”

Seungcheol moves around quietly, but his skin is crawling. Something is wrong. He’s just about to check in with Jihoon again when there’s a yelp and a shuffle of noise.

“Woozi?” Seungcheol whispers. Then there’s a gunshot and Seungcheol hears Jihoon scream. His blood runs cold.

“Woozi?!” he doesn’t care about being quiet anymore, Jihoon’s screams are muffled over his communicator, like he’s far away and someone is trying to gag him. There’s a _thud_ and Seungcheol feels fear filling him like someone’s dumped cold water on his head.

Suddenly there’s a foreign voice speaking in his ear. “His name is Lee Jihoon, codename Woozi. Best sniper on record, ninety-five bullseyes out of a hundred. Very impressive.” In the background, Seungcheol can hear Jihoon whimpering and sobbing, and his heart wrenches at every sound.

“Who are you?!” Seungcheol cries. He’s spinning around even though he knows they aren’t there. They’re with Jihoon. They’ve hurt Jihoon.

“He always has your back,” the voice says, “but who has his?”

And then there’s another gunshot, and the sound of the connection being cut.

 

Jihoon is positioned at the eighth floor of the adjacent building to the dockland warehouses. Seungcheol sprints as hard as he can, heart hammering in his chest.

He’s tried reconnecting, but Jihoon’s communicator is dead, probably destroyed.

He doesn’t know if Jihoon is still alive. He doesn’t want to think about the possibilities.

Seungcheol pushes himself to run harder, get there faster. His lungs are screaming, but his head is full of Jihoon’s scream full of pain and he pushes himself more.

He reaches the eighth floor gasping for breath. He almost collapses right then and there, so he allows himself a few precious seconds to breathe before he pushes himself to stumble through the doorways.

Windows. He has to find windows. Jihoon will be there.

“Jihoon?!” he calls, voice wheezing. He hears a distant whimper and he pushes himself towards the sound.

“Jihoon? Jihoon?!” Seungcheol falls to his knees when he sees him.

Jihoon is lying in the middle of the room, moonlight streaming in through the open windows across his face. There’s a bullet wound through his right thigh - probably so he couldn’t run, Seungcheol thinks grimly - and another one in his stomach. High damage, but not fatal; at least not yet. There’s so much blood though, if Seungcheol doesn’t get it to stop soon, Jihoon is going to pass out just from the blood loss. And then - Seungcheol doesn’t let himself think any further.

Jihoon is crying, face crumpled as tears flow from the corners of his eyes, matching the blood that runs down his chin from his mouth.

His brown eyes find Seungcheol’s and he opens his mouth, but all that comes out is blood as Jihoon chokes, tears flowing again.

“Oh, god, Jihoon,” Seungcheol is shaking. He has to pull himself together, but just the sight of Jihoon like this is already tearing him apart. “I - I’ll fix this, okay? It’s going to be okay,” he yanks off his jacket, folding it and pressing it against Jihoon’s stomach to try and stop the blood flow. Jihoon lets out a tiny, painful sob. Seungcheol curses and tries to hold back the tears. He has to pull himself together. He has to call Soonyoung, get help. He reaches for his communicator and sees Jihoon watching him, face still crumpled in pain, mouth opening over and over like he wants to say something.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” Seungcheol says again, trying to smile. He calls Soonyoung and declares that they’re aborting the mission and they need help. Jihoon looks so sad at his words. Seungcheol brushes his fringe away from his forehead and tries to smile again.

“I’m… sorry,” Jihoon chokes out and Seungcheol hushes him. His heart feels like shattered glass in his chest as he leans over and kisses Jihoon’s forehead, against his sandy hair.

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” Seungcheol says. He watches Jihoon’s eyes flutter once. Oh no. He looks down at his hands, pressed against his jacket and Jihoon’s stomach, and he feels like he’s going to crumble as he realises that his jacket is soaked through, his hands becoming bloody. Jihoon is losing too much blood.

“Jihoon, stay awake, okay?” Seungcheol says and he hears his voice crack. “Damnit, stay with me. I love you, Jihoon, do you hear me?!”

He thinks he sees the faintest hint of a smile on Jihoon’s lips, haunting with the drying blood, but his eyes are still beginning to flutter.Seungcheol can feel the tears rolling down his cheeks and he’s gasping, trying to breathe and keep it together. How did this happen? How did he let this happen?

Suddenly Jihoon’s eyes open wide and Seungcheol feels hope flare in his chest, until Jihoon opens his mouth at the same moment Seungcheol feels the barrel of the gun pressed against the back of his head.

“Goodbye, S.Coups,” the voice says.

Seungcheol thinks he hears Jihoon scream his name as the gun fires.

 

(Soonyoung curses several times at the scene in front of him.

Choi Seungcheol, codename S.Coups, and one of the best close range fighters the organisation has ever seen, lies face down in a carnage of blood. At least, what’s left of his head is face down. Bullets to the head are always so messy.

He’s lying over his partner, who is also his best friend and lover. Lee Jihoon, codename Woozi, who held the record of ninety-five bullseyes out of a hundred shots, lies on his back underneath Seungcheol. There are dried tear tracks from his eyes and there’s blood all around his mouth. Judging from the blood soaked carpet that has turned Jihoon’s sandy blond hair into a gradient of red and pink, Jihoon bled to death.

“Jihoon was injured first, but Seungcheol died first,” Junhui reports, expression dark as he appears by Soonyoung’s side. Junhui knew the S.Coups/Woozi team too. Most people did - they were the longest surviving unit, with the best record. They were the closest thing to celebrities that the organisation had.

“How cruel,” Soonyoung says softly as he looks at the two of them. “They made Jihoon die slowly and painfully, with Seungcheol lying on top of him, dead,”

His stomach rolls at the sight - he’s seen more gruesome scenes: more blood, more bodies, in even more pieces, but this is the worst. Still, he can’t bring himself to turn away. He feels like he owes them both that much.

He sees Jihoon’s bloodied hand on his chest, like he was reaching for something before he lost the energy to do so. Soonyoung takes a deep breath, but is silent as he crouches beside them, hand reaching for Jihoon’s.

“Soonyoung, what are you - ?” Junhui starts, but then stops, understanding.

When Minghao arrives with the stretchers to take their bodies away, he doesn’t say anything about the clear disruption of the bodies. He just moves them onto their respective stretchers, and Junhui helps him carry their bodies out, keeping Jihoon’s hand intertwined with Seungcheol’s the whole way.)

 

_five_

Seungcheol sees him on the train.

He’s brunette and his hair is a little too long, swept to one side. He’s dressed casually, ripped jeans and a pink backpack, oversized jacket that covers a t-shirt of a band Seungcheol doesn’t recognise.

He’s got headphones on, eyes fixed outside, though his attention is clearly on the music as he bobs his head along to the beat.

Seungcheol smiles and contemplates going over to talk to him, but figures it would be weird. He’s at the other end of the train carriage and Mingyu and Wonwoo beside him would clearly ask questions. Seungcheol can’t even pretend he saw him drop his wallet - it’s too crowded to see that.

 _There’ll be another time_ , Seungcheol thinks as he watches him get off the train. He notes the train station in his head and smiles to himself. _I’ll see you again_ , he thinks as the boy walks past his window, totally oblivious to Seungcheol’s staring.

“Hyung?” Seungcheol turns his attention back to Mingyu who is watching him curiously, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol says, and his heart agrees with him. “Just thought I saw someone I knew, but it’s okay,”

And he tells himself that it’s okay over and over, as days and days go by and Seungcheol doesn’t see the brunette boy again. He even purposely takes the train at slightly different times in case the boy is late or early. Seungcheol gets off at his stop and walks around aimlessly for hours before going home, disappointed.

Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, and soon it’s been two years and Seungcheol still hasn’t even seen the slightest glimpse of him again.

Mingyu and Wonwoo have stopped asking who he’s searching for, because Seungcheol never answers. He doesn’t know how to tell them he thinks he’s lost his soulmate who he’s never met. He doesn’t know how to explain about remembering his past lives without sounding crazy or like they’re dreams.

Years go by, and Seungcheol makes a life for himself, but even when he meets attractive people, he never finds someone who stirs his heart, and he knows why.

He was meant to be with the brunette boy on the train that Seungcheol saw briefly when he was twenty.

When people ask why he’s still single, Seungcheol merely smiles sadly and says, “I missed an opportunity,”


	2. lives six to ten

_six_

“Time to wake up, time to wake up!” an excited voice accompanies the jumping weight on his stomach and Seungcheol struggles to breathe as he opens his eyes to find his son grinning at him, totally content on sitting on Seungcheol’s chest like he’s not seven and weighs more than he realises.

“Can’t breathe, Chan,” Seungcheol rasps out and Chan moves to jump on the person beside him.

“Come on, Dad!” Chan says and an arm lazily swats at him, trying to roll over and go back to sleep. Seungcheol chuckles and wraps his arms around the other’s waist.

“Time to wake up, Jihoon,” he whispers. Jihoon grumbles and ignores him. Seungcheol noses at the back of his neck. “If you don’t get up, I’ll have to send Chan to school,”

Jihoon immediately sits up, expression dark as he glares at Seungcheol with bleary eyes. His hair is sticking up in every direction and he’s scowling even though he’s not even properly awake yet.

“You don’t even know where school is,” Jihoon mutters, before stifling a yawn. Seungcheol protests that he does pick ups, but Jihoon ignores him and ushers Chan into the bathroom.

“You have to clean up before you go to school, Channie,” Jihoon says, voice light and soothing, even as he almost bumps into the door in his sleepy haze.

Seungcheol chuckles and follows them into the bathroom.

It’s a blissful moment, even in his sleepy state. The three of them stand in front of the sink, mouths full of foam as they brush their teeth. Chan brushes vigorously, while Jihoon looks like he’s going to fall asleep on the spot. Seungcheol nudges him and Jihoon glowers at him. Chan turns around, baring his teeth for the two of them to inspect if he’s cleaned properly, before he spits and rinses and skips out of the room. Jihoon follows suit, calling out to Chan as he leaves the bathroom. Seungcheol laughs and nearly chokes on his toothpaste.

While Jihoon gets Chan into his school uniform, Seungcheol pulls out the breakfast cereals and fishes around the fridge for the bread they bought for Chan’s lunch. A juice pack and a chocolate bar is added before Seungcheol puts the lunch bag next to Chan’s school bag.

“Breakfast!” he calls as Chan appears in his school uniform, Jihoon appearing a few moments later, fumbling over his tie. Seungcheol quietly points out that he missed a step.

“Can you buy milk on your way home?” Jihoon asks, as he hands the carton to Chan who pours himself a giant bowl of cereal. Seungcheol is going to have to finish it for him again.

“Sure,” Seungcheol says, kissing his forehead as Jihoon stares blankly at the fridge, forgetting what he was looking for. Seungcheol turns to Chan, “Want to go to the supermarket after school today? We can buy your favourite snacks,”

Chan agrees through a mouthful of milk and cereal that makes it way down his chin. Jihoon tsks and wipes his chin and mouth with a tissue. He sends Seungcheol another glare before he says to Chan, “Finish quickly, or you’ll be late for school,”

Jihoon chomps on some bread while flitting about the kitchen as Seungcheol watches Chan, making sure he doesn’t choke on his cereal.

“I’m full, Dad,” Chan whines, when he’s halfway through his bowl.

Seungcheol just grins and ruffles his hair.

“Okay, okay, off you go. You have enough energy for school now,” he says and Chan jumps out of the chair excitedly, running into the living room to grab his backpack.

“It’s your time to go, pumpkin,” Seungcheol says as he nudges Jihoon to get up.

“I can’t believe you still call me that, I haven’t had orange hair for three years,” Jihoon mutters around his last mouthful of bread, but he gives Seungcheol a quick hug before going to help Chan tie his shoes, before he ties his fingers into them.

“Be a good boy at school, okay?” Seungcheol says and Chan nods, runs over to give him a quick hug, and then takes Jihoon’s hand and tugs him out of the apartment.

“See you tonight,” Jihoon laughs quietly as he’s pulled out into the corridor and Seungcheol grins and waves to them both. He can hear Chan’s excited chatter all the way down the corridor and he smiles to himself.

He finishes the rest of Chan’s cereal before getting changed, doing his tie up as he searches for his briefcase. At least Chan didn’t take his documents out to draw on last night, Seungcheol thinks. He remembers the last time that had happened.

He’s still laughing about it as he leaves the apartment. He has a full day of work ahead of him, but he’s got Chan’s laughter and Jihoon’s smile to look forward to tonight, and that’s more than enough reason for him to keep smiling.

 

_seven_

Seungcheol tries to bury more of his face in his giant scarf as the wind blows harshly, cold biting into his skin. He doesn’t want to look at his watch, doesn’t want to think about how long he’s been waiting, how long he might have to wait.

If Jihoon gets caught -

“I could push you into the river before you even notice that I’ve been standing here for a while now,”

Seungcheol turns and sees Jihoon standing there in a thick coat, clouds of white escaping his lips into the cold air.

The grin comes before he realises. “Hey,” he says and when he leans over, Jihoon just tilts his head up to meet him halfway, cold lips meeting in the frigid night.

“Come on, let’s go,” Seungcheol says, mittened hand reaching to take Jihoon’s mittened hand, pulling him towards one of the few areas with coffee shops still open at this hour.

“You were a little later than usual,” Seungcheol says, when they’re settled in the cafe, hot drinks ordered.

Jihoon sighs. “I think they noticed I’m awake at night, so it took longer for everything to quiet down,”

“Didn’t get stuck in the tree, like last time?” Seungcheol asks with a grin. Jihoon scowls at him and Seungcheol reaches over to take his hand. “I’m joking,”

“I know, but that was terrifying. I thought I was going to be stuck there until morning and either freeze to death or get found and never see you again,” Jihoon mutters with a shudder and Seungcheol doesn’t know how to feel that the idea of never seeing him again makes Jihoon as scared as freezing to death.

“It’s okay. You climb that tree every week, it won’t hurt you again,” Seungcheol says, patting his hand as their drinks arrive. Jihoon rolls his eyes and mutters something about traitorous trees under his breath.

He eyes Jihoon’s coffee in comparison to his hot chocolate. “I still don’t know how you drink coffee at times like this,”

“Midday, three in the afternoon, or four in the morning, it’s all the same to me,” Jihoon says, sipping from his mug.

The sleeves of his sweater are a little too big and they cover part of his hands, making Seungcheol just want to hug him even more.

“How was your week?” Seungcheol asks instead, their mugs and hands almost touching across the small table.

“The usual,” Jihoon shrugs. “Class, tutors, fancy dinner parties for more rich snobs who want to “get to know me”,” he rolls his eyes as he makes the quotation marks. Seungcheol chuckles. “Father has done everything except announce it publically that I’m going to take over the business, so everyone tries to be friendly with me, it’s obnoxious,”

“You’ve only just started university,” Seungcheol says with a sigh.

Jihoon nods, taking another sip, “And if I follow my parents plan, there’s Pretentious University number two to go to, to get a masters of something else boring, and then Pretentious University number three to do something else or other.”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh at Jihoon’s exaggerated retelling. “They tell me so many times what I’m going to do, but I always tune out.”

“And yet they still think you’re the perfect son,” Seungcheol says. Jihoon just sighs heavily.

Seungcheol can see the slump of his shoulders and the way he stares into the murky liquid of his cup, like his mind is congested by everything everyone expects him to be.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - ” Seungcheol says but Jihoon shakes his head.

“I know they want the best for me,” Jihoon murmurs, “but it’s suffocating and they can’t even see they’re forcing their dreams onto me,”'

Seungcheol just wraps a hand around Jihoon’s and tries to give him a reassuring smile. Jihoon tries to return it, but it’s strained.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Jihoon says tiredly, “you’re the only one who sees me as me,”

“And you’re wonderful as you are,” Seungcheol says, smiling softly. “People will realise. Just give them time,”

“We might not have much,” Jihoon says suddenly and Seungcheol is surprised at the sadness in Jihoon’s eyes.

Jihoon sighs again. “I’m going to start working at the company from next month, and they’ll increase the security on me, following me around all the time, everywhere,”

“I don’t know how long more I can climb down that tree next to my balcony, Seungcheol-hyung,”

The chair clatters to the ground as he gets up, but Seungcheol doesn’t pay it any mind, just rushes to Jihoon’s side to hold him. Jihoon’s hands are trembling as they form fists against Seungcheol’s shirt. He's shaking and Seungcheol has never seen Jihoon break like this before.

Seungcheol curses and moves to crouch beside Jihoon, holding his face in his hands.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, I promise, it’s going to be okay,” Seungcheol says numbly. He just wants Jihoon to stop looking like he’s losing all hope left in his life.

“You don’t know that,” Jihoon mumbles.

“I do, because we’re making it work now, and we’ll make it work then,” Seungcheol says, thumb caressing Jihoon’s cheek. “And I know because neither of us are going to just give up and let it tear us apart,”

“I’m not letting you go, Jihoon, believe me on that,”

 

_eight_

“Can you believe him? The nerve, to challenge you,” Mingyu mutters and Seungcheol laughs.

“He has the right to, Mingyu. Just because the last few years has only had one candidate for school council president doesn’t mean we can’t have another candidate. We’ll actually have campaigning and an election this year. It’s going to be pretty interesting,”

“Interesting,” Mingyu mutters with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t see why. Everyone likes what this school council does,”

“Clearly not everyone,” Junhui drawls from a corner, continuing to scroll on his phone.

“I can’t even remember his name. I just know him as the pink haired shortie,” Mingyu mutters.

“His name is Lee Jihoon,” Hansol quips from one side, “and I wouldn’t call him short, if I were you. I heard he made Seungkwan limp for two days after Seungkwan implied something about his height,”

“So he’s sensitive about his height,” Seungcheol shrugs, “doesn’t mean he isn’t a good candidate. I think his grades are really good,”

“What makes you think that?” Chan asks, finally looking up from his phone. Michael Jackson continues to dance on his screen.

“He won the academic award last year,” a voice says at the doorway and they all see Kwon Soonyoung standing there. “Or did you forget that?”

“Hey, Hoshi,” Chan says, bright eyed. Mingyu calls him a traitor under his breath.

“Didn't forget,” Seungcheol says breezily, “what brings you here though?”

Soonyoung holds out a piece of paper, which Chan takes, still trying not to gush over his favourite dance teacher, who is actually his senior at school.

“Campaigning guidelines?” Mingyu reads over Seungcheol’s shoulder as the school council president reads through them.

“So you guys play fair,” Soonyoung says coolly, smirking slightly before he dances out of the doorway.

Seokmin arrives at the door a moment later, glancing behind him. “Was that Kwon Soonyoung?”

“As in the guy who will replace you as Treasurer if Lee Jihoon wins? Yeah,” Mingyu mutters.

“Guys, stop,” Seungcheol sighs, exasperated. “Come on, this is important, but not like bloody-thirsty-competition.”

“So that's a no to Jun kicking their butts with wushu?” Mingyu pouts. Jun, to his credit, looks perplexed how he was even included, while Seungcheol just gives Mingyu a glare.

“No, this is a… a friendly competition,” Seungcheol says, nodding in satisfaction at his choice of words. “We’ll campaign and they’ll campaign and the school will decide who they think is better suited for school council,”

“Friendly competition?” Jeonghan asks, an eyebrow raised as he enters the room. His hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, but half of it has become loose and frames his face messily. “Say that to the other team, who have practically taken over the front yard,”

“What?” They all crowd over to the window from where they can see the opposing student council is handing out flyers and chatting to students pleasantly.

“Hyung!” Mingyu whines, turning to him. Seungcheol rubs his forehead.

“Still friendly competition,” he says, “but doesn't mean it's not serious,” and then he starts delegating tasks.

As everyone scurries to get to work to catch up to the other team, Seungcheol takes another look outside and spots a peach haired boy amongst the crowd. Jihoon. He's talking to a young boy, probably a first year, nodding along to what the boy is saying. As the first year leaves, Jihoon falters in approaching the next person and instead looks up. His gaze locks on Seungcheol, watching from three floors above, and he smiles.

(Seungcheol bangs his head on the window frame trying to hurry back inside.)

 

The rest of semester passes by in a blur of classes, campaigning, studying, extra-curricular sports and more campaigning.

Mingyu has a wild look in his eyes every time he reports the latest campaign tactic by the opposing student council. Seungcheol hears him muttering about a dark haired boy with a deep voice stealing his position as Secretary though, and suspects his antics are for more than just winning the student council election.

Jeonghan, in comparison, has made fast friends with his counterpart, the Senior School representative on Jihoon’s student council by the name of Jisoo, and sometimes comes to the student council room bringing news on what their new campaigns are.

Mingyu scowls every time because he claims he puts in more effort to stalk the other members to eavesdrop on conversations. Seungcheol tries not to bang his head against the wall.

 

“Your team is very dedicated,”

Seungcheol turns from watching his student council hand out flyers and flashing pretty smiles at everyone to see Lee Jihoon standing beside him.

His peach coloured hair is bathed in soft sunlight and Seungcheol tries not to gape.

“Uhm, yeah,” he mumbles, “they’re really passionate,”

Jihoon chuckles, the smallest of smiles on his lips. “You’re lucky. I have to bribe my team with snacks on days when they’re tired,”

“Oh there’s plenty of bribing over here too,” Seungcheol says, thinking back to the time he was dragged to the local convenience store because he had made them all stay back an extra hour to _handwrite_ messages.

Jihoon’s grin is closer to a smirk as he looks at Seungcheol before looking at his team again.

“Well, it looks like we’re in an evenly matched fight then,” he says, then he turns and holds out a hand. Seungcheol stares at it dumbly. “May the best team win,”

Seungcheol shakes his hand numbly. Jihoon smiles at him before he turns and walks down the corridor calmly. Even as Hansol and Mingyu come over to ask him what happened, Seungcheol is still thinking about how Jihoon’s smile is kind of cute, and wondering why his heart is beating so fast.

 

After eight weeks of non-stop campaigning, in which Seungcheol has gotten so used to flashing a ‘perfect student council president’ smile his cheeks are sore, it’s finally election day.

The last minute campaigning is intense and Seungcheol honestly just wants to sleep after all of it, but Mingyu is pacing between the two groups who are all waiting in one room while the votes are counted. The tension is thick, but Jihoon looks unaffected, and most of his team seems to have absorbed his calmness, save one boy who looks like he’s going to start hyperventilating. Seungcheol sees Soonyoung reach over to ruffle his hair, talking to him softly.

Eventually the principal calls them both out and they stand on the stage in front of the whole school and wait for the announcement. Seungcheol doesn’t even realise he’s clenching his fists tightly in nervousness until a hand tugs them apart. He finds Jihoon smiling at him, eyes soft beneath peach coloured hair. Seungcheol tries to relax, even as Jihoon loosely holds his hand as the principal starts to speak. Seungcheol doesn't know what to concentrate on, the school principal or Jihoon’s warm hand in his.

“The votes are in, and the school board is delighted to announce that the result is something the school has never seen before….,”

Seungcheol’s heart sinks. He didn’t make it. He’s been student council president before, he can’t be a new thing. Jihoon is the new student council president.

He’s already turning towards Jihoon and giving him a small smile, about to congratulate him, but then -

“... the election has ended in a draw,”

Seungcheol’s head turns so fast, his neck protests, but his mouth is open as he gapes.

“So the school board has decided to allow both campaigning student councils to operate as one, in order to take the school even further.”

Seungcheol can hear someone hyperventilating in the background while Hansol is blubbering something in English. Jihoon looks surprised too, but appears much more calm than Seungcheol who looks more like a lost monkey on stage, eyes wide and staring at the principal and the rest of the school board.

“We can barely function as six, how are we going to manage with thirteen, including two presidents?” Seungcheol hears Mingyu ask Jeonghan.

But even though Seungcheol has no idea how this will work, when he turns to Jihoon, the peach haired boy is smiling serenely, and he thinks maybe… maybe this could be okay.

 

_nine_

Seungcheol opens one eye grumpily when a leaf lands on his nose, and Jihoon’s only reaction is laughter.

“You let the leaf attack me, and all you do is laugh,” Seungcheol huffs as he glares at the leaf until Jihoon reaches over to take it away.

“Sorry, love, but you're the one who wanted to sit under a tree,” he answers, orange hair getting messed up in the gentle wind. “With prickly bark might I add,” he says as he leans forward to brush bark off his back, “it's digging into my back.”

Seungcheol laughs. “I chose to sit under the tree. You chose to sit against its prickly bark,”

Jihoon makes a face at him. “Because _someone_ wanted to lie on my lap,” he says.

“And it's very comfortable,” Seungcheol says, smiling blissfully. It's true, Jihoon’s lap is very comfortable under his head -

Seungcheol scowls when Jihoon bounces his leg to purposely disrupt him.

“Meanie,” Seungcheol huffs and Jihoon smiles, eyes crinkling up and Seungcheol almost wants to sit up just so he can kiss him.

Jihoon chuckles. “Like you aren’t the same,”

“I take very good care of you,” Seungcheol protests, “you’re my pumpkin,”

Jihoon laughs again, but then falters and Seungcheol feels like he can see the happiness fall from his face.

“Jihoon?” he sits up, and Jihoon snaps out of his daze to pull him back to lie on his lap.

“You’re meant to relax,” Jihoon scolds and Seungcheol laughs softly, and the two of them share blissful smiles.

Seungcheol takes Jihoon’s hand in his, playing with his fingers as he asks, “What’s bothering you?”

Jihoon looks down at him, before smiling and shaking his head.

“It’s not something bothering me, per se, just… I keep thinking of memories that don’t seem to exist,”

Seungcheol frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks, but inside his chest, his heart is clinging onto every word, that maybe, just maybe, Jihoon is remembering.

Jihoon looks out to the park, and Seungcheol just watches the confusion etch itself into his features. “Well, like calling me ‘pumpkin’. I remember you calling me that before, but I also remember telling you that I don't have orange hair, even though I've only had orange hair since we've met. I remember things like being on student council with you, but we didn’t even go to school together. Or talking to you, lying on the grass of a riverbank in the countryside, when we have never left Seoul. There’s a memory of watching you at a firing range, even though I’ve never been to one, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t either,” he pauses to glance at Seungcheol and grin, “you were really good though. Lots of bullseyes,”

Seungcheol offers a small smile, but his heart is going crazy. Jihoon is remembering. What does this mean for them?

“Maybe they’re dreams or something,” Jihoon continues, “like it feels familiar, but they don’t seem like memories,”

 _Maybe they’re past lifetimes_ , Seungcheol wants to say, but something tells him he’s not meant to tell Jihoon. Like there’s a reason Seungcheol is meant to find Jihoon in every lifetime.

“Maybe it’s too many movies,” Seungcheol says instead and Jihoon hits his arm with his free hand. Seungcheol just holds onto his hand tighter as he laughs.

“Maybe I just love you too much,” Jihoon answers, beautiful smile lighting up his face. Seungcheol can’t answer, but his heart swells and he lifts his head to meet Jihoon halfway, lips colliding in the warm summer breeze.

“I love you,” he breathes, and his heart hopes that the next lifetime he says that, Jihoon will remember all their past lifetimes and know they’re not dreams.

 

_ten_

Seungcheol stares at the blaring article that appeared just a few minutes ago. It's clearly a clickbait, but it's got Woozi’s name, so Seungcheol clicks it anyway.

_Woozi announces long awaited second full length album! But with who?_

The article says the guest featuring will include various top ten pop artists. Seungcheol shrugs, not fussed about who exactly - all will be impeccable and talented, suiting the songs they feature on. After all, they're chosen by Woozi, the award winning artist who smashes the charts with every release, whether it's an album, single or even just a featuring.

Seungcheol’s eyes dart over to the other side of the screen where other Woozi fans are sending him messages.

 _Coups-oppa, have you seen the news?!?!_ one reads. Another six have linked him the article with various levels of keysmashes or variants of _OMGGGGG_ and Seungcheol smiles.

He posts a link of the article with the grinning emoji and the retweets are almost instantaneous. By the time he’s replied to those who mentioned him, the tweet has a hundred and seventy-four retweets and is quickly climbing up.

Seungcheol finds some more articles and posts them and tries to follow the rest of his mentions, but it's starting to get chaotic now.

The singer-songwriter Woozi appeared in the music scene two years ago and exploded with popularity after he composed and sang a song for a popular drama, two months after a successful debut that won him number one on several music shows. Real name Lee Jihoon, Woozi was a little short in height, but full of talent and maturity and had a large following, of all ages and both genders. He rarely appeared in variety shows, but he was credited for many songs by various hit artists and even just the mention of Woozi’s name on a song or album almost guaranteed it to be a chart topper.

Seungcheol created his Twitter account “coupszi95” the day Woozi’s debut teaser was released and had a following of his own, with quite a few other fans calling him Woozi’s biggest fan.

 _Coups-oppa, what made you love Woozi-oppa?_ someone had once asked him and Seungcheol had taken three days to answer it.

He wanted to talk about how he dreams of a boy who looks like Woozi with pale pink hair, cuddled in his arms. That he dreams of Woozi with sandy blond hair, lying in a pool of blood, crying and gasping for breath. Seungcheol hadn’t known how to answer that he remembered several lifetimes before this one, where he and Woozi, no, Jihoon, were together. So he says what he feels, without explaining the details.

 _Lee Jihoon made me fall in love with Woozi_ is Seungcheol’s eventual answer and he doesn't look at all the notifications on his answer.

Last year, at Woozi’s first concert, which sold out four days in Seoul within seconds (Seungcheol just managing to nab a ticket for the third day), Seungcheol had watched Woozi, dressed in a three piece suit and with lavender hair, sing and dance and laugh on the stage and he felt both ecstatic and somber.

Ecstatic to finally see the boy he had been following online for the past two years, to be reminded that he's real, that he exists. But he also felt somber, heart heavy in his chest as he watched Woozi’s eyes look over the crowd with tears welling up, gaze seeming to pause for the briefest second longer at Seungcheol, before moving on. Seungcheol felt his heart twist in pain, because he was just one in a giant crowd to Woozi. He was not someone that could be with Jihoon, like Seungcheol remembered in previous lifetimes.

“Am I being punished?” Seungcheol whispers to himself as he sees more articles released, announcing the featured artists. Seungcheol sees some familiar names - Hoshi, Vernon, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungkwan - artists Woozi has collaborated with in the past, and those he calls friends.

He posts the articles and hopes in the next lifetime, he’ll get to meet Jihoon; but for now, he’ll keep following Jihoon online, and keep being S.Coups, Woozi’s biggest fan.


	3. lives ten to fifteen

_eleven_

“All flights are delayed indefinitely due to bad weather conditions. Please contact ground staff if you require assistance in regards to a connecting flight. We apologise for the delay.”

Seungcheol heaves a sigh. He rushed from his constantly-overtime-job in Seoul all the way over to the US for two days to see his best friends tie the knot, and now he’s stuck in the airport because of bad weather. (He loves Jisoo and Jeonghan, really, but a wedding in winter just spelled disaster in so many ways.)

He's grateful his phone is dead - from trying to connect to the wifi to find out when he might leave this chaos - otherwise work would be phoning him non-stop. He’s just lucky he could reschedule his appointments for these few days (he pointedly tells the happy couple that it shows how much he loves them, because it increased his stress levels).

Seungcheol sighs again, waddles through a crowd of exhausted, cranky mothers with wailing children, and heads into one of the cafes. It's packed but there are a few tables that have only one person at a two person table. Seungcheol figures he's not going to get a better spot so he’ll just have to share (while silently cursing his friendship with Jeonghan and Jisoo).

He orders a cup of coffee (he's going to need it) and wanders through the tables. He's about to approach a middle aged woman on her own, who looks rather nice and quiet, when she suddenly starts yelling loudly into her phone, and he backs away, startled, and mildly fearful for his life.

He turns around, about to find another table when he finds he's standing in front of one. At it is a young man, probably a few years younger than Seungcheol, tapping away at a laptop. He's got giant red headphones on, over a grey cap that doesn't quite hide pale pink hair.

Seungcheol isn't sure whether he should interrupt or just go find another table, but the young man makes a decision for him, raising his eyes to look at him, curiously. _He’s got really pretty eyes_ , is the first thing that registers in Seungcheol’s brain before he flounders and motions to the seat opposite, asking if he can share in awkward English.

The young man just nods wordlessly and gestures to the seat and Seungcheol slides into it gratefully. Finally! Some rest!

He sips at his coffee and looks outside. It really looks like a snowstorm. Maybe he should get a hotel room; it didn’t look like he was going to be leaving anytime soon.

Seungcheol jumps a little when the guy opposite him starts cursing under his breath in Korean. No one else flinches because they don’t understand, but Seungcheol is surprised at the foul words leaving the young man’s mouth.

He notices Seungcheol’s stares after a moment and mumbles out a hasty apology in English. Except Seungcheol interrupts him to ask, “You speak Korean?”

The guy looks surprised. “You speak Korean?” he says and Seungcheol can feel the smile spread across his face in relief. He knows a little English, but speaking in his mother tongue is so much more comfortable.

“Yeah, I’m from Daegu originally,” Seungcheol says, “flying back to Seoul tonight. Well, I was meant to.” He sighs. “Are you from Seoul?”

“Busan originally, but I work there now,” the young man answers with a laugh. “Wow, what are the chances of the two of us sharing the table today?”

Something in Seungcheol’s chest whispers like a soft voice in the wind. _Fate made the chance certain._

“I’m Seungcheol,” he says and reaching a hand across the small table. The young man takes it.

“Jihoon,” he answers, smiling in a way that makes his whole face light up. Seungcheol feels his heart swoop.

“What made you curse so much?” Seungcheol asks, nodding his head at Jihoon’s laptop.

Jihoon laughs nervously, remembering that he had cursed a lot just before. “I’m doing work, but my laptop got an error and crashed the program.”

“That sucks,” Seungcheol says, “I hope it saved.”

“I hope it did too. I’ve been working on the song for the past three hours,” Jihoon answers with a sigh.

Seungcheol can’t hide his surprise. “Song?” he asks.

Jihoon blinks at him like he doesn’t understand the confusion. “Yeah, song. I’m a music producer,”

“That’s awesome!” Seungcheol bursts out and then hurriedly tries to shrink as people turn to stare at him. Jihoon, however, finds it amusing, as he tries to stifle laughter behind a hand. Seungcheol feels like he’s mesmerised.

Jihoon quickly schools his face back to normal and Seungcheol snaps out of his daze. “I wanted to be a rapper when I was a teenager,” Seungcheol says softly, remembering those days with his friends. He shakes himself to come back to reality - where Jihoon is looking at him, amused. “What kind of music do you produce?”

Jihoon shrugs. “Anything really, though mostly pop and hip-hop.”

“That’s really cool,” Seungcheol says.

Jihoon smiles. “Do you want to listen?”

Seungcheol looks surprised. “Can I?”

“Only already produced stuff. I can’t show you unreleased things. Here, you probably recognise this one,” he says, handing Seungcheol his headphones. Seungcheol puts it on and almost immediately a familiar melody begins to start up. It was a hit song a couple of years back, performed by a popular idol group. It was number one on the charts for weeks, playing at every store and cafe for months.

Seungcheol pulls off the headphones, mouth agape. “You produced this?” he splutters.

“Produced, wrote, composed, yeah,” Jihoon has trouble keeping the smile off his face. Seungcheol is having trouble not making a complete fool of himself.

He takes a deep breath and tries to gather his brain. Jihoon watches him, amused smile on his face. Seungcheol flounders internally.

“How about, uhm, I buy you a coffee or something, and you show me more of your songs?” Seungcheol says.

Jihoon raises an eyebrow, edges of his lips quirking into a bigger smile. “Are you flirting with me?”

Seungcheol’s thudding heart screams yes. “Maybe?” he tries.

Jihoon’s smile is so bright, Seungcheol just blinks at him dumbly. Jihoon looks down at the takeaway coffee cup in Seungcheol’s hand and easily reaches over to pluck it from his fingers.

“This will do,” he says with a grin. Seungcheol is so stunned, watching Jihoon try to bite back a smile against the rim of the takeaway coffee cup, he gets startled by the new song that plays through the headphones around his neck. Seungcheol hurriedly pulls it up to his ears to listen, but his eyes remain on Jihoon, who’s laughing soundlessly. The takeaway coffee cup is still in his hands, pressed against his bottom lip, as he waits for Seungcheol’s comment.

It’s another hit song from last year that he would have recognised anywhere, but Seungcheol can’t concentrate. Not when Jihoon is sipping at the takeaway coffee he had been holding just a few moments ago, and smiling so brightly.

Seungcheol has never been more thankful for a snowstorm.

 

  
_twelve_

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol whispers, “please open the door,”

Silence spins out as there's no answer from the other side of the door. Seungcheol wishes that Jihoon would just scream at him again. It would be easier.

“Please, Jihoon,” he says, “I’m sorry. Really. Can we please talk this out?”

Seungcheol slumps against the door, head tilted back to rest against the wood. He doesn’t know how long he’s been here, how long he’s said every variation of apologies and pleaded for Jihoon to open the door. If there’s anything Jihoon is good at aside from making Seungcheol love him endlessly, it’s not talking. Because, as he once tried to explain, when he’s got too many thoughts, he retreats into his head until he can sort through them. Seungcheol just doesn’t want him gone for too long.

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol can’t find the energy to knock on the door anymore. “We’ll work it out, okay? I’m sorry I yelled, I was worried about you, but I said the wrong thing,” he sighs. He sounds like a broken record - he’s pretty sure he said something similar in the first few minutes of Jihoon slamming the door in his face.

That was after all the screaming, and the shattering of plates that Jihoon had thrown down between them. Dinner had been tense but bearable; then Seungcheol asked about the new notice for rent payment that had appeared under the door, and Jihoon snapped.

Seungcheol sighs. The ceramic pieces are still littered on the floor of the kitchen and Seungcheol considers cleaning it up but he knows that isn’t his priority. Right now, his priority is the boy on the other side of the door who won’t talk to him.

Seungcheol remembers the lifetime apart from Jihoon and how he had wished every day to just meet him.

_I have Jihoon in this life_ , he thinks. _I can’t let this fight continue. I can’t lose him_. He takes a deep breath and clambers to his feet to bang on the door again.

He’ll bang on the door and wait all night if he has to - because even with the shattered ceramic, bills they can’t pay, and too many odd jobs that don’t support them, they have each other, and Seungcheol has to show Jihoon that that is enough.

 

  
_thirteen_

“Come on, Jihoon,” Soonyoung calls, beckoning like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Jihoon bristles with anger and maybe unshed tears.

“I can’t reach,” he whines and Soonyoung frowns like he doesn’t understand. Soonyoung is five though, he should understand that four-year old Jihoon can’t reach the bars that climb up to the tower of the playground.

“I can’t lift you from here, Jihoon,” Soonyoung says, looking worried.

“It’s okay, you can play with me instead,” a voice says as a warm hand slips into Jihoon’s. Jihoon stares at the person like he’s an alien, despite him being a perfectly normal boy with dark hair and big eyes.

“Thanks, Seungcheol-hyung!” Soonyoung calls as Jihoon totters after this “Seungcheol-hyung”.

“I’m Seungcheol, you can come play in the sandbox with me,” the boy says, beaming at Jihoon.

“But Soonyoung-hyung is in the tower….” Jihoon says, looking back, almost sulking. He came to play with Soonyoung, but Soonyoung left him at the bottom of the playground.

“But the tower is boring,” Seungcheol says, whispering like it’s a special secret as he sits down in the middle of the sandbox.

Jihoon stares at him. “You know a lot of things, hyung,” he says, sitting down beside Seungcheol and piling sand together to make a mountain.

Seungcheol giggles. “You called me hyung,”

Jihoon pouts. “You are my hyung!” he says. His mother always told him to call people respectfully. Jihoon was a good boy and always did.

Seungcheol beams. “I know, it’s just cute. You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute!” Jihoon cries and he flings the sand that had been in his hand at the boy opposite him.

  
_Fifteen years later_

“Hyung, I’m going to trip over something and we’re both going to fall and split our heads open, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s not how first dates should go,”

Seungcheol grins at the word “date”, but just hushes the shorter boy and waddles behind him, not removing his hands from his eyes.

“Just wait, Jihoon, we’re almost there,”

“You said that ten minutes ago, hyung,” Jihoon deadpans, but he hasn’t tried to use any of his violent chokeholds on Seungcheol yet, so the older knows he’s still safe.

“Okay, we’re here,”

Seungcheol finally takes his hands away and Jihoon blinks at finally having vision again. Seungcheol sees the recognition fill Jihoon’s eyes, but what comes out is, “You take me to hamburgers and then an old rusting playground for our first date? I thought you had more class, Seungcheol-hyung,”

Seungcheol slings an arm around his shoulders. “You love hamburgers, and besides, it’s our first date. It’s sentimental.”

“So you had to take us back to the place where we first met,” Jihoon drawls, but he’s grinning and Seungcheol smiles at him. Jihoon notices, and tries to appear calm as he fights down a blush. It makes Seungcheol laugh, which earns him a kick from Jihoon.

Seungcheol just grins and takes Jihoon’s hand and pulls him towards the playground.

“You have to take me back to the nightmares of my toddler years,” Jihoon says sarcastically as Seungcheol climbs up the tower, laughing and offering his hand out to Jihoon. Jihoon hits it away and says that even though he hasn’t grown much, he can climb up a playground made for eight year olds, thank you very much.

It’s a bit of a tight squeeze in the top part of the tower, and Seungcheol watches Jihoon move to half sit in the slide. He rolls his eyes before grabbing his hips and pulling him down into his lap. Jihoon goes more red than his hoodie. Seungcheol tries to keep the smug smile off his face as he wraps his arms around Jihoon and grins at him.

“Relax, it’s just me,” he says softly. It’s so quiet in the park, and Jihoon fidgets for a little bit before finally resigning himself to being stuck in Seungcheol’s lap.

“That’s the whole problem,” Jihoon mutters and Seungcheol chuckles.

“Cute,” he murmurs, lips ghosting against Jihoon’s cheek. But he quickly pulls away, eyes wide in alarm as he says, “Don’t fling sand at me,”

Jihoon goes from blushing at Seungcheol’s proximity to laughing loudly, whole body shaking, and Seungcheol’s heart feels like it’s expanding just from the sight.

“We’re not even in the sandbox,” he says with a bright eyed grin. “But I won’t,” he adds solemnly, and Seungcheol breathes a sigh of relief, “so long as you don’t cry,”

“Hey, the sand got into my eyes, okay?!” Seungcheol protests and Jihoon chuckles, leaning against Seungcheol’s chest. “Besides, you cried too.”

“I felt bad I got sand in your eye and made you cry,” Jihoon mumbles.

Seungcheol just laughs breathlessly as he presses his forehead to Jihoon’s shoulder and thinks this is exactly why he wants to be with Jihoon; because no one else can make him laugh so easily, or make his heart stumble and yet also calm it. Only Jihoon. In this lifetme, and every lifetime before this.

Jihoon sighs heavily while Seungcheol just laughs quietly to himself. Suddenly he’s stopped by two warm hands on his cheek, lifting his face to look up, eyes meeting Jihoon’s gaze in the distant light from the street lamp.

“To make up for flinging sand in your eyes, fifteen years ago,” Jihoon says, before leaning over and kissing Seungcheol quickly.

He pulls away, blushing, and Seungcheol is so dazed, it takes a full ten seconds before he pulls Jihoon back and kisses him properly.

(And only when they pull away with messed up hair and swollen lips, does Seungcheol grin and say Jihoon is forgiven; to which Jihoon rolls his eyes, and Seungcheol kisses him again).

 

  
_fourteen_

Seungcheol wakes up when he feels like he can't breathe. His chest feels like it’s on fire.He jerks up, but doesn't make it upright, his whole body losing the energy halfway.

He sucks in desperate breaths as a cool hand pushes his hair from his forehead, another hand slipping into his.

“Breathe, hyung, in and out, in and out,” the soothing voice belongs to the young man by his bedside, pushing his hair back.

“Jihoon,” Seungcheol rasps out, but the other just hushes him and reminds him to breathe.

“Okay?” He asks when Seungcheol has finally calmed down. The nurse had rushed in about a minute after Seungcheol woke up, but is now nodding to Jihoon as she takes her clipboard and leaves the room silently.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol says tiredly. He feels drained, mentally, emotionally, even physically, even though he has barely left the bed in weeks. “I'm okay,”

Jihoon just smiles softly. “You're a fighter, remember?” He says. He hasn't stopped carding his hands through Seungcheol’s hair, and it's making him sleepy.

“Mmm, you're the fighter,” Seungcheol murmurs. “You're still here, even after all this mess,”

Jihoon just smiles softly at him. “Of course,” he says and Seungcheol lets himself drift off to sleep, smile still on his face and hand wrapped in Jihoon’s.

 

When he wakes, he expects silence and the occasional beep of the heart monitor by his bed. Instead he hears the sound of sniffles and muffled hiccups.

“Jihoon?” his voice is faint but it carries in the still air.

A shuffle of noise and then a cool hand is pushing his hair away from his face, hand slipping into his and squeezing gently. Jihoon’s pale face is illuminated by the soft moonlight streaming through the blinds. “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

And as he sees the smeared tear stains on Jihoon’s cheek that he's tried to wipe away, Seungcheol realises with a painful twist in his chest that Jihoon has always asked him how he's feeling, if he's okay, but Seungcheol has never asked the same.

“How are _you_ feeling?” he asks, hand shaking as he lifts it to touch Jihoon’s cheek. If only he was stronger, he could protect Jihoon, not put him through this pain -

A soft, weary chuckle. “I'm fine, I'm fine. Do you need water?” a sniff and a shaky breath, “I'll go get some - ”

Seungcheol tugs him back with the little strength he has. Jihoon turns back to him with wide eyes. In the soft moonlight, he looks so young, so vulnerable, and Seungcheol doesn't know what to say.

In the end, he simply manages a rasped out, “Come here,” as he tugs Jihoon’s small hand in his towards him. Jihoon looks unsure, but eventually complies to Seungcheol’s insistent tugging and gets onto the bed, lying down beside him. He curls against Seungcheol’s side, face turned so that their noses are almost touching as they share Seungcheol’s pillow.

“What's wrong?” Seungcheol finally manages to ask. He can count the number of times Jihoon has cried before on one hand, and it worries him. Especially since Jihoon had tried to hide it from him. How many other times has he hidden it from Seungcheol? “Talk to me,”

“You don't need to worry about it,” Jihoon says, snuggling closer but Seungcheol frowns.

“If it's bothering you, then of course I'm going to worry,” he says and Jihoon goes silent.

“Jihoon, please….”

The smaller boy continues his silence for a while longer, even though his hand is still entwined with Seungcheol’s.

“Ji - ”

“I don't know what to do,” Jihoon says suddenly, breaking the silence. “If… If you leave, I don't know what to do,”

Seungcheol’s heart sinks. “Jihoon…”

“I’m… I'm scared, hyung, genuinely. What do I do with myself if I don't have you?”

“You'll be okay, Jihoon,” Seungcheol says, “You’re a fighter, remember?”

“I'm not,” Jihoon whispers and his voice cracks a little, “I'm not, I'm really not.”

“It's okay, it'll be okay, I promise,” Seungcheol says. _Because the ending of this life isn't going to be pleasant, but there's the next life, and the life after that_ , he wants to say, but he remembers the life apart from Jihoon after the other started remembering. Seungcheol keeps his mouth shut. Fate won't forgive another mistake from him.

“You don't know that,” Jihoon murmurs and Seungcheol’s heart is crumbling in his chest, matching the rest of his deteriorating body.

“I do, love, I do,” Seungcheol says. “You'll be okay. We’ll be okay,”

Jihoon buries his face into the crook between Seungcheol’s nose and the pillow and lets out a shuddering breath. “Why are you leaving me?” and his voice is so broken, Seungcheol breaks too.

He turns as best he can to hold Jihoon closer, trying to hold back his own tears. “I'm not leaving you, I'm not,” he struggles to whisper, “I'll find you again in the next life, and the life after that, and every life until neither of us exist anymore,”

To Jihoon, they're just empty promises, because Jihoon doesn't remember all the lifetimes they have and haven't shared. But Seungcheol does and he means every word.

And he knows Fate will hurt him for it, but with his heart as cracked as his voice as he continues to whisper promises he can never fulfil in this life, Seungcheol thinks Fate can't cause him more pain than this.

 

  
_fifteen_

Soonyoung is easily excited, but this time he looks like he's about to burst and his eyes are shining so brightly, Seungcheol greets him by asking if he should wear sunglasses.

Soonyoung laughs happily and says there's a guy in his dance class and he's super cute, and when Soonyoung had flirted with him, the guy had blushed and been a little flustered, and Soonyoung is pretty sure he likes him already.

The guy in Soonyoung’s dance class, who they dub “Soonyoung’s Fairy” because Soonyoung won't tell them his name, becomes the starting topic of their weekly meet ups, the group of them constantly analysing if the guy likes Soonyoung back. By the third meeting, they already establish he does, if the flustered answers and occasional flirting back are any indication. But it takes until the seventh meet up after the first one, for Soonyoung to walk in with a bright smile again and say that he had asked the boy out and they were going on a date that Saturday.

Seungcheol has work that night, but he hears from Seungkwan and Hansol (who stalked their date) that it was definitely mutual, and it was super cute.

Seungcheol and the others congratulate Soonyoung the next time they meet up and Soonyoung goes red and smiles sheepishly and says they’re going out now, and it’s so many levels of adorable, Junhui claims to be jealous, even though none of them have even met the boy.

“You have to bring him along next time,” Minggyu says brightly and Wonwoo agrees with him. Soonyoung jokes that they'll all scare him away.

“We’ll be good!” Chan protests and Soonyoung laughs and says he’ll ask.

When Seungcheol is late the next time, he walks into the cafe to find his friends laughing loudly and an extra head with pale pink hair sitting amongst them.

“Hyung!” Hansol sees him first and calls him over.

Seungcheol grins and makes his way over. “Hey, sorry I'm late. Work kept me back,” he says and he's about to take his seat at the edge of the booth beside Hansol, when he sees the pink haired boy under Soonyoung’s arm and he falters just slightly.

“Oh, Seungcheol-hyung,” Soonyoung says, following his gaze to look at the boy under his arm, “this is Jihoon, my boyfriend,”

Seungcheol feels his blood run cold. Jihoon laughs brightly and hits Soonyoung’s arm lightly. “Boyfriend,” Jihoon echoes and Seungcheol feels like that word coming out from Jihoon’s mouth is a knife to his chest. In previous lifetimes, Seungcheol has heard that word after his name, but now… now it's after Soonyoung’s. “That sounds weird,” Jihoon laughs.

“You love it,” Soonyoung grins, face incredibly close to his and Jihoon just laughs.

“Sure, sure,” Jihoon says, leaning against Soonyoung, nudging him, smile never leaving his face.

Seungcheol tries to dislodge what feels like a peach stone in his throat. “Nice to meet you,” he says and Jihoon turns to smile sweetly at him.

“Nice to meet you,” he says and they shake hands across the table. His discomfort isn't noticed by the rest of their friends as their food arrives. But even though his stomach is rumbling, Seungcheol can’t even think about the food.

He’s just watching Jihoon, under Soonyoung’s arm and giving him the brightest smile out of everyone.

And when Soonyoung leans over to peck Jihoon on the lips, Seungcheol looks away and tries to stuff his face with fries, so that he won't think about how his heart feels like it's collapsing in his chest.

_You shouldn't have promised him something he isn't meant to know,_ Fate whispers as Seungcheol watches Jihoon and Soonyoung exchange rings and giddy grins two years later; and Seungcheol can't help but agree.


	4. lives sixteen to twenty

_sixteen_

“Yo, Coups,”

Seungcheol turns, hand already moving to the gun at his waistband. He comes face to face with Hoshi, their noses almost touching as Hoshi grins.

“Not fast enough,” Hoshi grins as he steps back, twirling Seungcheol’s gun on one finger, before tossing it back to him. “Tempest is on the move again. They were already near our territory by the time I saw them,”

Seungcheol scowls and tucks his gun back into the waistband of his jeans. “Where are they now?”

Hoshi makes a face. “I came to report as soon as I saw them,” he says, sounding almost grumpy. “But Coups…. Vernon is out there,” Seungcheol doesn’t even need to see the look in his eyes to know what he’s thinking.

The chances of Vernon colliding with Tempest are low, but they can’t take that risk. Tempest will tear him apart if they find him, and Seungcheol isn’t going to let one of their youngest get murdered by a rival gang.

Seungcheol is already out the door, tapping a table as he walks past to get Jun and The8 to follow. Hoshi is at his heels instantly.

“Vernon should be on the upper east side,” Hoshi says, before turning to the other two to fill them in on what’s happening.

“Why is he on the upper east side?” Seungcheol mutters, darting into a lane and climbing over the fence.

Hoshi catches up to him easily. “He’s seeing a friend,”

“A friend? What’s he doing meeting a friend? He knows it’s dangerous,”

“He’s a kid, Seungcheol,” Hoshi says, and it’s a testament to their friendship that he knows Seungcheol’s real name. “Kicked out or not, he’s still a kid,”

Seungcheol sighs. “Yeah, I know, and that’s why we’re going to go drag his butt home,”

Hoshi chuckles. “We sure are,” he says, throwing an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder.

They roam the upper east corner of their territory as the sun begins to set, looking out for Vernon and his friend. The8 is the one to hear them first. He tugs on Jun’s sleeve and they all follow his wordless gesturing to a lane off the main road.

Vernon is leaning against the wall of a building, rolling his eyes, as a young boy in front of him prattles off, seemingly chatting his ear off.

“C’mon, Kwan, I told you - ,” Vernon begins, but he’s cut off by the other.

“You can say what you want, Hansol, but I’m not going to leave it until you answer me properly,” the boy says. “Every time I see you, you’re covered in bruises and scratches and you look like you haven’t eaten,” Vernon is reaching for him, because his voice is loud and climbing up to ridiculous octaves, “and don’t you dare tell me you’re fine!”

“Seungkwan, come on!” Vernon is saying, but the boy ignores him, continuing to rant.

“Should we even intervene the lovers’ quarrel?” Hoshi asks and Seungcheol chuckles before stepping towards them.

He sees the flash of black, and yells out, but he’s too late. Vernon hits the ground in front of his friend, who screams. Seungcheol reaches him as the guy in black grabs Vernon’s friend, knife in his other hand.

“You okay?” Hoshi asks as he helps Vernon to his feet. Seungcheol can see his cheek is beginning bruise already. He turns back to the guy in black, matching black hair falling into his eyes, but Seungcheol recognises him. Wonwoo. They had given each other matching black eyes and split lips after their last fight.

“You’re in our territory,” Jun says, stepping forward to stand beside Seungcheol.

“Seungkwan,” Vernon reaches for his friend, but Seungcheol puts a hand out, eyes narrowed.

“You have no business here,” Seungcheol says, “and that boy is an innocent bystander, don’t involve him in our fights,”

“We have business here,” a voice says.

They turn around to see three hooded figures and Seungcheol frowns. “Woozi,” he says and there’s a soft chuckle to confirm his suspicions.

The leader of Tempest, Woozi, responsible for Seungcheol losing three members of his gang in the last year, those he considers brothers, is right in front of him. They have never met, but they know each other.

“S.Coups,” the airy voice says, belonging to the hooded figure in front.

Seungcheol hears Jun shift beside him and he sees Wonwoo, still holding Vernon’s friend, moving to the other side, to his gang. Seungcheol curses under his breath.

“Unclaimed territory is another kilometre to the north of here,” Seungcheol says, “You’re on our territory,”

“And one of our members is in hospital because one of you couldn’t keep your cool at a club,” Woozi’s airy voice says. Seungcheol can’t see any of their faces under the shadows of their hood, the setting sun’s rays not reaching them in the dark lane.

“That doesn’t equate to territory shift,” Seungcheol says coolly. “Leave, we don’t need to fight now,”

“Actually, S.Coups, because we’re both here, we kind of do,” Woozi’s voice answers. “We’ve both got unresolved grudges on our backs. Why not clear it?”

“Release the boy,” Seungcheol says, “He’s innocent,”

The hooded head of Woozi turns to Wonwoo, clicking his tongue. “Why’d you go and do that?” he mutters and Wonwoo hurriedly lets go of Vernon’s friend, who stumbles over to their side, tears streaming down his face. Vernon holds onto him tightly, still looking distressed.

“Just us, and no firearms,” Seungcheol says and Woozi’s hooded figure shrugs and steps forward.

“Fine by me,”

They both face each other in the dark lane and Seungcheol can still only make out a small nose and pale lips from the shadows of Woozi’s hood, but he stops looking when Woozi moves, and he ducks to dodge the punch, shifting his weight to trip him. Woozi is faster, jumping and his foot narrowly misses Seungcheol’s head as he rolls out of the way. Seungcheol is the first to land a punch, but Woozi quickly retaliates, fist striking Seungcheol’s cheek and making him stumble back.

Seungcheol hears Hoshi move, wanting to intervene and he quickly holds up his hand. This is a fight for their gangs, their families, but it needs to be a fair one-on-one fight. He wipes the blood on his sleeve before stepping forward again. They eye each other warily for a few moments before Seungcheol moves again, feigning a kick and actually punching up, knocking Woozi back. Seungcheol quickly takes advantage of his loss of balance to tackle him to the ground, raising his fist to strike again, to land an equally dizzying blow to the one Woozi had landed before. But he stops.

Woozi is a blond kid, with piercing eyes and a bleeding split lip, but Seungcheol is frozen, because this is the kid from his vague memories of their past lives. The one he’s loved until his heart can’t love anymore. He’s seen Woozi with black hair, with orange hair, with pink hair, smiling at him, scowling at him, and dying in a pool of his own blood in front of him.

Seungcheol snaps out of it when he gets a fist to the face and he stumbles off Woozi, clutching his nose. The blood drips and he tastes the blood before he swipes at it with his sleeve again. He's about to step forward again until he hears Jun call out in panic.

“Vernon!”

Seungcheol turns to see Vernon, gun raised at Tempest, angry tears threatening to fall.

“Vernon, put the gun down,” Hoshi says calmly, but Vernon isn’t listening. Behind them, Seungcheol sees Vernon’s friend, Seungkwan, sitting against the wall, breathing heavily and holding a bleeding arm, while The8 tries to keep him calm. Oh. Wonwoo must have injured him. Intentional or not, Vernon was now out for blood.

Seungcheol hears the click of a gun and sees all of Tempest have raised their guns in response, with the exception of Woozi who’s picking himself off the ground. Hoshi is matching them and Seungcheol curses. This wasn’t meant to be a bloodbath. He has to stop it before it becomes one.

“Vernon,” Seungcheol says, trying to keep his voice calm. “They hurt your friend, and we’ll get even another time, but if you fire a gun, he's not going to get the help he needs, and there’s a chance neither of you will make it out of here,”

Vernon doesn’t budge, but Seungcheol can see some hesitation in the quiver of his hand. “Do you want Seungkwan to see you fire a gun and kill someone?” he murmurs.

And that’s all it takes. Vernon turns away from Tempest and stares at Seungcheol, looking like his young eighteen years. But before he can lower his gun, a shot rings out.

Seungcheol freezes, waiting to feel a pain that doesn't come. But he sees Vernon’s wide eyes, and they both looked down at his stomach at the same time, where it looks like a giant red flower is blooming on his white t-shirt.

“Vernon!” Seungcheol grabs him as the boy’s legs give out and he sinks to the ground. Seungcheol pulls him back towards Seungkwan, who is crying, hands reaching for Vernon to cradle his head in his arms.

“Mingyu, you idiot, he wasn’t going to shoot!” Seungcheol hears Woozi yell.

“You don’t know that!” a voice replies, but before it can break out into an argument, there’s another gunshot and Seungcheol whips around to see Hoshi glaring down the barrel of his gun.

“Hoshi, stop!” But it’s too late. Another gunshot and one of the hooded figures of Tempest goes down, and then everything explodes.

Seungcheol tries to grab Hoshi’s gun, to stop him from shooting more, but all that happens is Hoshi screaming at him, spinning the two of them around and then going still as a bullet embeds itself in his back. He doesn't say anything, eyes wide and mouth open in shock, as he sinks to the ground.

Hoshi’s gun is left in his hands, and Seungcheol can’t hear anything as he raises his gun and fires. He sees Wonwoo go down, and hears Jun’s cry when he’s shot.

Seungkwan is brokenly crying for his best friend, who is already breathing his last, as The8 tries to pull him to his feet to run. There's so many gunshots, Seungcheol doesn't know which ones hit and which ones miss.

But then Seungcheol faces Woozi, gaze piercing, and stares down the barrel of his gun. Seungcheol’s gun is pointed at him too, and it wouldn’t take much. Just pull the trigger, and he’d avenge all those he lost - over the years, and in the last few minutes. He’d save the rest of his gang, back at their hideout, from the rest of Tempest that resides in the next territory.

But he can only think of the boy he’s seen in his vagues memories of their past lives, who smiles at him like there’s nothing that makes him happier than being with Seungcheol.

And even though Seungcheol hesitates, Woozi doesn’t, and the gun fires and the bullet embeds itself in Seungcheol’s heart. Seungcheol falls and thinks that this is what he gets. He’s still being punished for trying to cheat Fate.

Seungcheol sees the brilliant orange sky as he falls to the ground and closes his eyes.

 

  
_seventeen_

Seungcheol hasn’t even put his bag down before he’s turning on his computer and logging into Skype. There’s a lot of people online, but Seungcheol is only looking for one person. He grins when he sees the green circle next to the username.

_hey woozi!_ he types. It’s seen instantly and there’s the indication the other person is typing.

_hey coups, i’m doing some arranging. want to hear?_

Seungcheol grins. _you know it_

He fixes his headset up just as he gets a call, answering it immediately.

“Hey,” he says and there's a soft chuckle on the other end.

“Hey. Okay so I haven't got lyrics but you'll hear the section for rap, so if you can think of a theme to go with, I'll try to come up with lyrics for the rest,” the voice says.

“Sure thing,” Seungcheol answers, “let's hear your new song, Woozi,”

Another husky chuckle and then his headphones are filled with rhythmic beats and the careful melody of guitar chords.

They discuss lyrics for an hour, before Seungcheol tells him to go to bed.

“You have school,” he says.

“Yes, _hyung_ ,” Woozi answers and Seungcheol laughs.

“I'll catch you in the morning?”

Woozi hums and ends the call.

_Goodnight._ is typed into their chat conversation.

Seungcheol smiles to himself. _night, woozi._

 

Seungcheol is just about to give up on the stupid algebra problems that he hasn't been able to figure out after two hours, and maybe actually get some sleep, when his computer starts ringing. He glances up and accepts the call with a grin.

“Morning. You on the bus?”

“It's just arriving now,” comes the answer.

“I thought of some lyrics,”

“I thought you were doing homework,”

“I was!” Seungcheol protests, “I just thought of lyrics as well,”

Soft laughter travels through his headset. “Let's hear them then,”

“Are you awake enough?” Seungcheol teases, because they always have these chats as Woozi travels the hour to school, but he’s learned over time that Woozi isn't a morning person, and sometimes even falls asleep in the middle of talking to Seungcheol.

“If your lyrics are good enough, maybe I will,” Woozi replies and Seungcheol smothers his laugh, because it's nearly midnight and he's meant to be asleep. It's a school night for him, after all.

So Seungcheol plays Woozi’s new song and raps the lyrics he had come up with and suggests some ideas for other lyrics.

Woozi answers with some lyrics of his own, singing it quietly and Seungcheol rests his head on his arms on the desk and listens, eyes drooping and smile remaining.

“You falling asleep on me, Coups?” Woozi asks. Normally Seungcheol will jump up and vehemently deny it, even though Woozi knows he's lying. But this time, Seungcheol just hums and feels his eyes close as soft laughter fills his ears.

“G’night, Coups,”

“Seungcheol,” he mumbles, “my name’s Seungcheol,”

It's been three months, and one with daily Skype calls, but they never told each other their names. It just never happened - Woozi didn't ask and so Seungcheol didn't either. He didn't need Woozi’s real name to know he was a real person.

“Oh,” Woozi’s voice says and Seungcheol finds himself smiling again. “Well, I'm Jihoon,” he says and Seungcheol smiles. _I knew it was you_ he wants to say, _I'd recognise you anywhere._

“G’night Jihoon,” he mumbles even though his mind is already drifting. I wish I could see you. I hope next time, I get to.

“Good night, Seungcheol,”

 

  
_eighteen_

Seungcheol toes off his shoes with a sigh, stepping into the apartment, calling out to Jihoon as he drops his bag to the ground. There isn’t an answering call, or even the bang of a pan to indicate that Jihoon is attempting to cook, and Seungcheol should go make sure he doesn’t burn the kitchen down.

Seungcheol steps into the living room, where the television is humming quietly in the background, and Jihoon is curled up on the couch, asleep. He smiles and makes his way over to the couch, crouching beside it and just looking at the boy in front of him. The slope of his nose, the line of his jaw, his long lashes, his pink lips. Seungcheol smiles to himself.

He gently brushes Jihoon’s hair away from his face. “Hey, Jihoon,” he murmurs and the caramel coloured hair boy grumbles. “Jihoon, go sleep in bed,”

“Haven’t eaten,” Jihoon mumbles, eyes still closed.

“Do you want to eat?” Seungcheol asks. It’s almost midnight. Did Jihoon not eat dinner again, waiting for him?  
Jihoon shakes his head and Seungcheol sighs, hauling his boyfriend into his arms.

“Come on, to bed you go,” he says as he half carries, half drags Jihoon into the bedroom. Jihoon whines and clings onto his neck.

Seungcheol unceremoniously dumps him onto the bed and Jihoon opens an eye to glare at him, muttering a curse under his breath.

Seungcheol just grins as he leans over to kiss Jihoon quickly. “Love you too, Ji,”

He washes up quickly, and climbs into bed quietly, trying not to disturb Jihoon who seems to have gone back to sleep. But as he settles down, Jihoon moves, rolling over to cuddle him.

“Sorry for waking you,” Seungcheol whispers as he wraps his arms around him.

“You should be,” Jihoon mumbles back, nuzzling his face into Seungcheol’s shirt.

Seungcheol runs a hand through his caramel hair and then says, “Is that my old college jumper?”

Jihoon makes a noncommittal sound and Seungcheol sighs, but he’s smiling as he hugs Jihoon tighter.

It’s not perfect - Seungcheol works long hours, and they don’t match Jihoon’s, and some months they can only afford the rent and discount groceries - but they’re together. And after three lifetimes apart, Seungcheol loves just being able to hold Jihoon in his arms and whisper sweet nothings into his hair.

Seungcheol didn’t realise he would miss something as simple as being able to hug Jihoon; but he did, and now he can, and there’s an unbelievable amount of happiness in that.

 

  
_nineteen_

“Lee Jihoon, I did not sign up for this,” Seungcheol hisses under his breath as he crawls out from under the bed. He glances at the door where he can still hear Jihoon talking to Soonyoung in the lounge room. Seungcheol hurriedly pulls the rest of his body out from under the bed and clambers to his feet.

He’s just sliding Jihoon’s bedroom window open when he hears Jihoon coming down the corridor, back to the room. Panicking, Seungcheol quickly hooks one leg out the window, pulls his body through and is just unhooking his other leg when he spots someone standing outside the front door of Jihoon’s apartment, staring at him with wide eyes. Seungcheol freezes and only snaps out of it when he hears the bedroom door opening, sees Jihoon and Soonyoung staring at him from the doorway, and promptly falls into the outside corridor with a yelp, landing ungracefully.

“I got him, Jihoon-hyung!” a voice yells as Seungcheol feels someone pounce on him and he chokes.

He hears Soonyoung ask what’s going on as he looks up at the window and sees Jihoon sigh and shake his head.

 

“So you weren’t robbing Jihoon-hyung?” the boy who had jumped on Seungcheol asks. He had identified himself as Seokmin, Soonyoung’s boyfriend.

“No!” Seungcheol gasps. “Just… he was sick, I came to visit him, and was just leaving.”

“Via the window,” Soonyoung says, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Seungcheol stumbles. “Y-Yes,” he says uncertainly. He’s terrible at lying. Jihoon, on the other hand, is totally blank faced.

“Jihoon,” Soonyoung turns to the other boy.

“He entered through the front door,” Jihoon answers calmly. “I let him in. He’s not a burglar.”

Seungcheol breathes a sigh of relief that he’s at least not going to get dragged to the police station for burglary of his boyfriend’s apartment.

“But why was he leaving via the window?” Soonyoung persists. “How do you even know each other?”

“Uh,” Seungcheol hesitates, not sure how much of the truth they’re going to tell. “We’re friends, through, uhm, class.”

Soonyoung narrows his eyes at him and Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Look, Soonyoung-hyung, we’re dating. It’s been seven months. But you know my situation, with my parents and the company and everything - no one can know, not even you guys.”

Soonyoung has a look of mock horror on his face. “Jihoonie! I feel so betrayed! Seven months?!” he cries dramatically and Seokmin laughs loudly.

Jihoon just ignores him, getting to his feet and pulling Seungcheol up with hm. “Well, whatever, just don’t tell or I’ll know it’s you and I’ll hunt you down. Now if you’ll excuse us, we were cuddling before you interrupted.”

And without even looking back, Jihoon tugs Seungcheol by the hand back into his bedroom and flops down, dragging Seungcheol with him.

“Jihoon, are you sure?” Seungcheol asks, even as the younger curls up against him. Seungcheol doesn’t deny hm, can’t deny him - he just wraps his arms around him and holds him close.

“They won’t tell,” Jihoon mumbles, sniffing a little. “Besides, even if they do, or people find out or whatever, I don’t care. As long as you’re here, I don’t care.”

And as Jihoon falls asleep against his chest, Seungcheol smiles against his hair and thinks that it’s true - as long as they’re together, everything will be okay. It alway has been in all their lifetimes together, so he doesn’t doubt it’s the same in this lifetime. And if he has to climb out Jihoon’s window again, then he’ll do it - for Jihoon.

 

  
_twenty_

Seungcheol runs a hand through his newly changed blond hair and takes a deep breath.

Yesterday, in a fit of panic about today’s Meeting, Seungcheol had dyed his hair blond. Seungcheol rarely got nervous, but yesterday his mother started talking about his future with his soulmate and how the rest of his life was going to be so happy and content and she couldn’t wait to meet them; Seungcheol tried to erase the suffocating feeling in his chest by running out of the house, and before he could even properly process it, he had bought bleach from the shop and was standing in his bathroom with it in his hands.

Maybe meeting his soulmate with blond hair is a bad idea, but the system is never wrong - whoever they've matched as his soulmate will be right for him, and also stuck with him, whether he has blond hair or not, so he may as well let himself try.

Seungcheol takes a deep breath and steps up to his spot. In front of him, there is a door, and on the other side, is his soulmate.

Some people actually end up with those they know, old acquaintances they haven’t seen in a while, or even best friends. Seungcheol’s friends, Hansol and Seungkwan, had ended up matched up, the two of them happily spending their time together as soulmates, after nearly twelve years together as best friends.

Today, it’s Seungcheol’s Meeting.

Seungcheol hears the beep that indicates that the door is going to open, and he makes himself take a deep breath as the doors part.

Seungcheol blinks, surprised, when he sees the other person. Firstly, it’s a guy. Seungcheol has nothing against it, but most match ups were with those of the opposite gender, for reproduction purposes. It isn’t uncommon to be matched with the same gender though. Secondly, the guy is short, at least, shorter than Seungcheol, and he has pale pink that falls into pretty, wide eyes. Seungcheol’s dirty blond hair doesn’t seem like such a big issue anymore.

Seungcheol stares at him, frozen. This is the person he is meant to match up with, the person he is going to spend the rest of his life with.

Seungcheol snaps himself out of his daze and steps forward. “Hi,” he says, “My name’s Seungcheol. What’s your name?”

“Jihoon,” the boy answers says, voice sounding airy, and Seungcheol likes the sound of it. It makes sense, they’re soulmates after all.

Seungcheol smiles gently, and Jihoon returns it hesitantly.

“Nice to meet you, Jihoon,” Seungcheol says as his heart simultaneously beats faster and feels calmer. It feels like he's meeting someone he's met before, someone he's known all his life. _Or maybe in other lives_ , his heart whispers and Seungcheol feels relief that he’s found him again.

Jihoon’s smile is so, so beautiful as he looks up at him. “Nice to meet you too, Seungcheol.”

 

Seungcheol rouses to sunlight peeking in through the gaps of the curtains as someone buries their face against his chest. Seungcheol pulls him closer and Jihoon snuggles into the warmth.

“We have to get up soon, Jihoon,” Seungcheol mumbles and Jihoon gives a muffled grunt in reply, making Seungcheol laugh, jostling Jihoon resting on his chest.

“Come on, fairy floss,” Seungcheol murmurs, kissing his pale pink hair. He receives grumbling and a poke at the waist in return.

“I am not fairy floss,” Jihoon mutters.

“You can just be a fairy then,” Seungcheol says, kissing him softly.

“Ew, morning breath,” Jihoon says, pushing him away and sitting up in bed with a sigh.

Seungcheol sits up behind him, resting his chin on Jihoon’s shoulder, watching Jihoon blink blearily and run a hand through his hair.

He turns to look at Seungcheol, a beautiful smile spreading across his face.

“Good morning, Seungcheol,” he says, and Seungcheol thinks of all the times Jihoon has said that to him - every morning since they met. He said it the morning he first came over to Jihoon’s house, when he was a mess of nerves because he was going to meet Jihoon’s parents. But Jihoon just said good morning and smiled at him and Seungcheol suddenly felt like he could face anything. All those mornings after they fought, and the mornings after they made up, the mornings where they had barely seen each other the day before, and the mornings where they did nothing but talk as they cuddled in bed. Jihoon, even if half asleep and grumbling about everything else, would always say “Good morning, Seungcheol,” and smile at him.

Seungcheol feels his heart sigh in contentment, and he thinks, yes, the system got it right, just like every other lifetime they’ve spent together. No one matches him better than Jihoon does.

“Good morning, Jihoon,”


	5. lives twenty-one to twenty-five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two notes:  
> 1) this will be AO3 user locked in a week (as I do with all my fics)  
> 2) the anniversary date in life twenty-one was before we got the clarification that it was actually October and not July. I could change it to update it, but this was how I originally posted the fic, and I feel like I should keep it the same.  
> That's all! thanks for reading! hope you like the last part :)

_twenty one_

The morning rays flitter through the thin blinds and Seungcheol rolls over to the side. Bleary eyes take in the room filled with warm light, before he notices the yellow sticky note stuck to the bedside lamp. Seungcheol frowns and sits up slowly, and sees the card taped to the centre of his bedside table.

_Before you try to kill the boy in the bed beside you, please read all the cards._

He turns around to see a tuff of blonde and pink hair on the pillow beside him. He feels panic swirl in his stomach at the unfamiliarity.

He looks at the sticky note on the lamp.

 _Good morning, Seungcheol. Today is the 19th of July 2016 it reads._ Seungcheol frowns, feeling like something isn't right.

He spots the next piece of paper, stuck on the wall. He glances at the young man in his bed again before getting up and going to read it.

_Feels weird right? That's because your last long term memory is of the 21st November 2012._

Seungcheol follows the notes that flow across the whole wall of the room, sometimes with photographs or little souvenirs pinned beneath it.

_You were in an accident on the 22nd of November 2012._

_You don't remember anything since that day. It’s called anterograde amnesia. Your brain can’t move things from your short term memory into long term memory._

_Let’s get you up to date on everything, okay?_

He doesn’t know who wrote the cards, but he imagines a soft soothing voice, a little playful at the edges. Seungcheol doesn’t know who’s voice he’s imagining, but he likes the sound of it.

 _You met me a year after your accident, through_ Soonyoung _. Do you remember him?_

_He's dating Seokmin now. They're really cute (but don't tell them that)_

_We got married on the 19th July 2013, in a small garden in the countryside. It rained but we were happy._

_You proposed three times before we actually got married, and I had to show you the ring every time._

_Your mum got sick in September 2014 and passed away a month later. We made it back to see her for a week._

_You still call home sometimes and ask to speak to her. Your father never blames you._

Hansol _and Seungkwan have a little baby girl and you call her princess and treat her like one_

_I think that's everything. Welcome to the present, Seungcheol :)_

“But who are you?” Seungcheol whispers as he comes to the last card taped to the wall. He’s come a full circle of the room. He turns back to the mop of pink hair, still motionless in the bed.

He finds the answer stuck to the other bedside table.

_My name is Jihoon, and I'm in love with you, Seungcheol._

Finally, Seungcheol looks at the young man in the bed and slowly sits down beside him, gently pushing at his shoulder. Eventually there's a groan and a half hearted swat at his arm and Seungcheol finds himself smiling even though he doesn't remember him. He's meant to though, and he makes himself shake the young man awake until a small face surfaces from the pillow to stare at him blearily.

A few seconds wherein the young man just blinks at him, but then a soft smile spreads across his lips. “Morning,” he whispers. “Do you know who I am?”

Seungcheol hesitates but nods slowly.

“Jihoon…?” he tries out and the young man grins.

“Yeah, that's me,” he smiles and sits up, covering a yawn behind slender fingers. On instinct, Seungcheol reaches out to smooth his hair and Jihoon smiles.

“Looks like today is going to be good,” he says, laughing softly.

“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asks.

“You didn't kick me out of bed, for starters,” Jihoon answers. Guilt hits him like a wave, that he doesn’t remember, but Jihoon waves it away and smiles again.

“Breakfast?” he says and Seungcheol nods. It feels so natural when a sleepy Jihoon threads their hands together and leads him to the bathroom, mumbling things about how he slept really late, working on another song.

“You write songs?” Seungcheol asks and Jihoon has a tired smile on his face, mouth full of toothpaste, but he just nods, finishing cleaning his teeth as he answers all of Seungcheol’s questions over breakfast.

Seungcheol finds out the pink streaks that make Jihoon’s hair look like strawberry shaved ice was his idea.

“You told me to do it, said it would look good,” Jihoon says as he washes the dishes. Seungcheol reaches over to roll up his sleeves as he talks, the feeling of Jihoon’s smaller body tucked against his comforting. Seungcheol guesses that his body remembers even what his brain can’t.

After breakfast, they cuddle on the couch and Seungcheol finds out how holding Jihoon in his arms makes his chest warm and his skin tingle. It takes until Jihoon’s stomach growls before they get up to make some lunch, hours later.

Seungcheol watches Jihoon as he works in the studio for a few hours, watching the way he deftly manoeuvres through complicated programs and creates magic in his music. Jihoon points out the songs they made together, and how Seungcheol writes lyrics about new days. Jihoon makes songs about new love every day.

By dinner, Seungcheol blurts out an “I love you” through a mouthful of rice, when Jihoon is in the middle of retelling a story about Minggyu. His chopsticks are still in hand, food abandoned as he became animated about the twists and turns of the tale. Seungcheol had felt the familiarity tug at his chest until he was sure he knew Jihoon more than just the years that the card had told him. Like there were lifetimes before this where they were together and Seungcheol knew Jihoon better than anyone.

Jihoon freezes for a split second after Seungcheol says those words. But then he breaks into the most gentle smile and says “I love you too, Seungcheol”. He leans over to kiss Seungcheol’s rice dotted lips, pulling away with bright laughter that makes Seungcheol almost choke. He swallows his food to Jihoon’s laughter, scooping up soup to wash it down, as Jihoon laughs and laughs and laughs.

He can see why he fell in love with Jihoon. He can see why he married Jihoon. He wishes he could remember all the other little memories of the days since, of breakfasts and cuddles, movie marathons and ice-cream dates.

Seungcheol remembers the date on the sticky note and the card that talked about a rainy day in the countryside. “Happy anniversary,” he says and Jihoon beams so happily, Seungcheol thinks that he’s going to burst.

Seungcheol pulls them into the bedroom and asks him about some of the photos. Jihoon tells him some of the memories they’ve shared - amusement park double dates and sneaking away from Soonyoung to steal kisses behind half closed doors. Of having tea parties with Hansol and Seungkwan and their daughter, rich chocolate brownies smeared across their faces. Jihoon tells him about the mornings Seungcheol has screamed and kicked him out of bed and shut him out of the apartment all day, because confusion doesn’t allow reason; and how sometimes Jihoon sometimes has to let himself back in at the end of the day with the spare key because Seungcheol _doesn’t remember._

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol whispers several times, throughout every painful memory. Jihoon just laughs softly, chest rumbling beneath Seungcheol’s sturdy hand as the older holds him from behind.

“It’s okay. You called the cops on me once and that was hell to explain, but Soonyoung turned up by accident and calmed you down, so it was alright,” he says.

Seungcheol mumbles more apologies in between kisses along Jihoon’s neck. He promises that he doesn’t mean it and that he’ll remember everything tomorrow. Jihoon just pats his head softly and tries not to show his sad smile.

Seungcheol watches, chest twisting painfully, as Jihoon writes on a new sticky note to stick on his bedside lamp for tomorrow.

“I’ll remember,” Seungcheol whispers fiercely into Jihoon’s hair as he holds him as they settle down to bed. “I will. I won’t forget you, Jihoon,”

Jihoon just smiles tiredly and leans against his chest and they fall asleep with hopeful promises breathed in the darkness.

 

Seungcheol wakes up with a groan as he rolls over. There’s a warmth to his side, but he doesn’t recognise the figure with pink hair beside him. Seungcheol frowns and looks around the room, trying to take in the unfamiliar place. On his bedside lamp, he sees a yellow sticky note.

_Good morning, Seungcheol. Today is the 20th of July 2016_

 

  
_twenty two_

Seungcheol remembers when the apartment door is slammed in his face and Jihoon leaves him behind with more than just a broken heart.

He remembers leading a young Jihoon to the sandbox to play, of the two of them holding each of their son’s hands. He remembers pointing a gun at Jihoon when he had blond hair and was the enemy, he remembers seeing Jihoon laughing, under the arm of someone other than him.

Seungcheol remembers all their lives together, but he remembers too late.

Because Jihoon has left, and will never come back, or ever forgive him.

It started nearly eight months ago. Seungcheol met a boy with beautiful eyes and soft hair who was friends with Jisoo, and there was an instant attraction. Jeonghan was kind, and gracious, and laughed against Seungcheol’s shoulder like he was always meant to be there. And for a long time, Seungcheol thought so too.

But one day, after seven months together, Jeonghan asked if his younger cousin could interrupt their usual Friday night movie marathon. Seungcheol hadn’t been happy to give up precious time with the boy he loved, but Jeonghan had explained that his cousin needed a place to stay, just this once, was that okay? And combined with puppy eyes and promises of lots of kisses, Seungcheol easily relented.

When Seungcheol first meets Jihoon in this lifetime, he thinks his hair is going to fizzle from the glare the young brunette is giving him. Seungcheol doesn’t remember then.

As soon as Jeonghan appears behind Seungcheol, Jihoon breaks into a bright smile and totally ignores him as he greets Jeonghan and steps into the apartment. It takes a full ten minutes of Jeonghan gushing over the young man before Seungcheol is finally introduced, to which Jihoon merely says “Oh, so this is your man puppy,”

“Jihoonieeeee,” Jeonghan whines and Jihoon laughs and Seungcheol feels his heart stutter. Not in the same way it does for Jeonghan, but something about Jihoon pulls him toward the young boy. He’s genuine when he asks Jihoon questions all through dinner and until he leaves the next morning. Jeonghan is only half joking when he asks if he should be jealous that Seungcheol paid more attention to Jihoon than Jeonghan in the last twenty-four hours.

Seungcheol just noses along his neck and says he’s fascinated, that something about Jihoon seems interesting, but he can’t figure out what. Jeonghan thinks that maybe they’ll be good friends and it’ll be great, since Jihoon doesn’t make friends easily.

Except it takes only a few more visits, with Jihoon looking constantly sceptical and a little confused, before the first fight. And from there, it doesn’t stop.

Jeonghan says he can’t trust him anymore. Seungcheol swears it’s not like that, but he can’t explain what it is, and even though he tries, he can’t stop feeling that tug towards Jihoon like he can’t leave the boy alone.

The break up comes another week later, tearfully on both their parts, but something between them broke and no bridge could close the gap.

Jihoon comes by the apartment a few days after, and coldly says he’s just picking up stuff for Jeonghan.

“I’m sorry,” is all Seungcheol says.

Jihoon just glares at him, takes the box, and slams the door on his way out.

And it’s the slamming of the door that brings the memories back, of all their past lives, of every moment he spent with Jihoon.

Seungcheol says “Sorry” over and over to an empty apartment that can’t fix broken hearts or correct his mistakes. It can’t bring Jihoon back.

 

  
_twenty three_

Seungcheol heaves the last box up the stairs and through the doorway with a grunt, collapsing amongst the towers of boxes littered through the hallway.

A boy pops his head through the doorway, calling out a greeting, and Seungcheol sits up quickly.

“Hi, I'm Chan, your neighbour down the hall, at apartment 714,” he says brightly. Seungcheol returns the smile as he introduces himself.

“Wow, so you'll be my new neighbour here. I'm going to miss Jihoon-hyung, but I'm sure we’ll get along too!”

“Jihoon?” Seungcheol echoes, heart shuddering to a stop in his chest.

“Oh, Jihoon-hyung was the previous tenant in apartment 717. He’s moving overseas because of a new job though,” Chan says. “I think he's going to work with some really big music company in the U.S.,” he sounds in awe. Seungcheol just feels his heart sink.

He tries to tell himself maybe it's just the same name, just coincidence, and the Jihoon he's looking for will show up one day.

But Seungcheol moves in and becomes fast friends with Chan and the other tenants of the seventh floor, and the Jihoon that used to live in his apartment seems more and more like the Jihoon Seungcheol keeps looking for.

One day, Soonyoung, residing in apartment 709, says, “Actually, I'm surprised you didn't meet him,”

Seungcheol turns to him, surprise all over his face. “What do you mean?” he asks. They don't often talk about Jihoon specifically, it's usually just in passing, when the group reminisces memories.

“He was still finalising some things with the landlord when you actually moved in. He would have been lurking around, probably getting things he forgot too,” Soonyoung says, chuckling softly. “He was actually quite forgetful,”

And Seungcheol just nods and pretends it's fine even though he's internally cursing Fate for pushing them this way. Missing meeting Jihoon by minutes, maybe even seconds, and condemning Seungcheol to endless what ifs.

What if he hadn't dropped that box and had to pick up all his kitchen cutlery? What if Jihoon had messaged Soonyoung his new details like he was meant to, but probably forgot to do, and Seungcheol could get in touch with him? What if Seungcheol had moved to the city earlier?

What if? What if?

 

  
_twenty four_

The lifetime where Jihoon doesn't exist is the worst.

Seungcheol gets fifteen years into this lifetime before he realises why he has never felt completely whole.

“Oh, it's been twenty years already,” his mother says one day when Seungcheol is shovelling his breakfast into his mouth. The television is on in the corner of the kitchen, showing the grainy image of a horrendous car accident as the newsreader drones on about it.

“Since what?” Seungcheol asks, only half interested. He's going to be late to meet the boys for basketball -

“Since the car accident, with that young boy. It was so tragic. It was the reason the government brought in the laws for everyone to wear seatbelts,” his mother answers.

“Poor boy. I even remember his name - Lee Jihoon. He was only seven,” his mother sighs.

Seungcheol freezes.

It’s just a coincidence right? Seungcheol thinks. But the next day he searches the internet for information about the accident that happened twenty years ago, and bit by bit, his heart sinks.

He can't confirm it’s the Jihoon he's looking for, articles don't talk about his hobbies or how he laughs - he was only seven and merely a victim of a tragic accident.

But there's photos of a smiley young boy, and the hollow feeling in Seungcheol’s chest won't go away.

He wanders through that lifetime with faint hope, aimless and lost. Because Jihoon doesn't exist in this lifetime and Seungcheol doesn't know how to find himself without Jihoon.

 

  
_twenty five_

Seungcheol meets the new Pledis trainee when Doyoon asks him, “So why are you here, Jihoon-ah? Why are you pursuing music?” He’s got his hands on the shoulders of a young boy with hair that falls into his eyes, a guitar in its case by his feet.

But instead of the usual variation of “I want to be famous” or “I want to be loved”, Jihoon smiles at Doyoon with so much innocence as he answers, “I want to make music that will make other people happy,”

Seungcheol feels his heart stutter as the boy turns to see him and Seungcheol recognises him instantly. How could have ever forgotten the boy with shining eyes and a beautiful smile? He could never have stopped himself from falling in love.

“Oh, Cheol, come over here,” Doyoon says excitedly, beckoning Seungcheol over.

“Seungcheol, this is Jihoon. Jihoon, Seungcheol,” Doyoon introduces them. Jihoon is looking at Seungcheol strangely like he's trying to understand something. Seungcheol doesn't know whether to feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny.

“Hi,” Seungcheol mumbles out, shifting uncomfortably under Jihoon’s gaze. He's nervous too, which doesn't help. The butterflies don’t seem to stop, even after twenty-four lifetimes.

Doyoon looks between them, confusion on his face. “Do you two know each other?” he asks.

“No, we haven't met before,” Seungcheol says quickly, but his heart is whispering in his chest. _Not in this lifetime, no, but in other lifetimes, I have loved him in all the different ways he can be loved. I have died beside him and I have been killed by him, and in all of_ them _I have loved him._

Jihoon watches him carefully, as if he trying to see what is going through his brain. Eventually he just smiles and shrugs, eyes still shining so brightly, Seungcheol thinks they hold stars.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jihoon says easily, but there's something in the way he smiles that makes Seungcheol think that this isn't the end of the conversation.

 _It’s nice to see you again_ his heart breathes out, like a sigh of relief, that in this lifetime, Jihoon exists and they meet and Seungcheol can love him, like he has before.

 

The continuation of the conversation ends up being three days later, when it's just the two of them left in the practice room, lying sprawled out on the wooden floor with sweaty hair.

“Why did you lie about us knowing each other?” Jihoon asks and Seungcheol sits up slowly.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Jihoon laughs but doesn't get up from his position on the floor. He's still staring at the peeling paint of the roof.

“We know each other, Seungcheol, very well,”

He frowns. “Shouldn't it be hyung?” he says, stretching a little.

“You didn't mind in the past,” Jihoon answers coolly, still staring at the roof.

“What past? We’ve only just met,”

“In this lifetime, yes,” Jihoon says and Seungcheol feels his heart skid to a stop.

He stares at Jihoon, but the other boy seems calm. Seungcheol’s breathing is uneven, but he forces the question out of his lips.

“Jihoon….. do you remember?”

Jihoon turns to smile at him and Seungcheol feels like the little breath left in his chest is knocked out of him.

“All twenty-four of them,”

Seungcheol doesn’t move for a long moment; he feels like he can’t move. Then Jihoon says, “Aren’t you going to say something?” and Seungcheol crumbles.

He closes the distance instantly, pulling Jihoon into a bone-crushing hug, whole body enveloping him completely. His heart is hammering in his chest, head spinning as he tries to process everything. Jihoon smells like sweat and their shirts are sticking together in a very gross way, but Seungcheol doesn’t care.

Jihoon is here, and Jihoon _remembers._

There’s a short bubble of laughter and Seungcheol finally lets go to hold Jihoon’s laughing face in his hands.

“You’re so dramatic,” Jihoon says.

“It’s been twenty-five lifetimes of me constantly trying to find you,” Seungcheol says, “and now you finally remember me. I’m allowed to be a little dramatic,”

Jihoon just grins, cheeks squished between Seungcheol’s hands and eyes nearly disappearing.

“Yeah, okay, you’re allowed to be dramatic,” he says with another short laugh. There’s a pause, and then a quiet, “Thank you for finding me in every lifetime.”

“Thank you for being there in every lifetime,” Seungcheol answers. Jihoon just smiles.

And when Seungcheol leans in and their lips meet in that dimly lit practice room, with matching sweaty hair and pink cheeks, it communicates all the “I love you”s that they missed, all the apologies and words of gratitude that were never said, the kisses they shared and the ones they never got to share.

It’s their twenty-fifth lifetime together, and it’s Seungcheol’s favourite one.


End file.
